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A COMPARISON of the observations made by Aris- 
totle and Shakspeare respectively on the passions, hab- 
its, and institutions of mankind, promises, if I mistake 
not, much that is at once useful and entertaining. The 
useful part of this undertaking consists, I think, in 
bringing together the notices of two accurate and in- 
dependent observers of human nature, and thus con- 
firming each by the other: the entertaining part, in 
exhibiting the existence of unsought for and unde- 
signed coincidences, and in decorating the terse lan- 
guage of philosophy with the embellishments of poetry. 
We may thus see in some respects how far Aristotle 
was a poet, and how far Shakspeare was a philosopher. 
It cannot be expected that every sentiment of Aris- 
totle is illustrated in the following pages, or even that 
every coincidence which exists in the writings of our 
two great authors has been traced and exhibited. A 
greater number of illustrations might, undoubtedly, 
have been collected ; but those which are here brought 
forward appear to be sufficient for the purpose designed, 
and the book is perhaps as large as is allowable for a 
work of this nature. 



Moral Sense — Anger — Indignation — Hatred — Jealousy — Injury 
— Placability — Friendship — Love — Pity — Shame — Figar — For- 
titude — High Spirit — Prodigality — Self-Control — The Aged — 
The Young — Human Society — Force of Habit — Persuasion — 
General Remarks on Human Nature — Common Places. 



X HE illustrations which are classed under this head 
present us with a striking portraiture of that internal 
consciousness of right and wrongs which both Aristotle 
and Shakspeare evidently regarded as a native inmate 
of the human breast. The well-known passage of 
Cicero may serve as a commentary on the whole : 
" Sua quemque fraus et suus terror maxime vexat : 
" suum quemque scelus agitat, amentiaque ahicit : suae 
" malae cogitationes conscientiseque animi terrent. Hse 
" sunt impiis assiduse domesticaeque Furiae." 

Cic. Rose. Am. 24. 

Oi \JLoy6r\po\ — kavrovs (pevyovenv ava\u\w!)VKOVTai 
yap TTokk&v kcu bvo^ep&v, kclI tolclvQ' trepa £\Tti(ov(Ti, 
KaQ* kavrovs ovrts .... Mera/xeAetas ol (pavkoX ye/x- 
ovaiv. Eth. IX. 4. 

Macb. This is a sorry sight. [Looking on his hands.~\ 

Lady M. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. 

Macb. There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one 
cried, Murder ! 
That they did wake each other. I stood and heard them : 
But they did say their prayers, and addressed them 
Again to sleep. 

Lady M. There are two lodged together. 

Macb. One cried, God bless us ! and, Amen, the other; 


As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands. 
Listening their fear, I could not say, Amen, 
When they did say, God bless us. 

Lady M. Consider it not so deeply. 

Macb. But wherefore could I not pronounce, Amen ? 
I had most need of blessing, and Amen 
Stuck in my throat. 

Lady M. These deeds must not be thought 
After these ways ; so, it will make us mad. 

Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more ! 
Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep ; 
Sleep, that knits up the ravelFd sleave of care, 
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, 
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, 
Chief nourisher in life's feast ; 

Lady M. What do you mean ? 

Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more ! to all the house : 
Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor 
Shall sleep no more. Macbeth shall sleep no more ! 

Lady M. Who was it that thus cried ? Why, worthy 
You do unbend your noble strength, to think 
So brain-sickly of things : — Go, get some water, 
And wash this filthy witness from your hand. — 
Why did you bring these daggers from the place ? 
They must lie there : go, carry them, and smear 
The sleepy grooms with blood. 

Macb. I'll go no more : 
I am afraid to think what I have done ; 
Look on't again, I dare not. 

Whence is that knocking ? 

How is't with me, when every noise appals me ? 


What hands are here ? Ha ! they pluck out mine eyes ! 
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood 
Clean from my hand ? No ; this my hand will rather 
The multitudinous seas incarnadine, 
Making the green — one red. 

Macbeth, Act II. Sc. 2. 

Macb. Let 
The frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, 
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep 
In the affliction of these terrible dreams, 
That shake us nightly : better be with the dead, 
Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace, 
Than on the torture of the mind to lie 
In restless ecstasy. Macbeth, Act III. Sc. 2. 

King. O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven ; 
It hath the primal eldest curse upon't, 
A brother's murder ! — Pray can I not, 
Though inclination be as sharp as will ; 
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent ; 
And, like a man to double business bound, 
I stand in pause where I shall first begin, 
And both neglect. What if this cursed hand 
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood ? 
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens 
To wash it white as snow ? Whereto serves mercy, 
But to confront the visage of offence ? 
And what's in prayer, but this twofold force, — 
To be forestalled, ere we come to fall, 
Or pardon' d, being down ? Then I'll look up ; 



My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer 

Can serve my turn ? Forgive me my foul murder ! — 

That cannot be ; since I am still possessed 

Of those effects for which I did the murder, 

My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. 

May one be pardoned, and retain the offence ? 

In the corrupted currents of this world, 

Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice ; 

And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself 

Buys out the law. But 'tis not so above : 

There is no shuffling : there the action lies 

In his true nature ; and we ourselves compel? d, 

Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, 

To give in evidence. What then ? What rests ? 

Try what repentance can. What can it not ? 

Yet what can it, when we can not repent ? 

O wretched state ! O bosom, black as death ! 

O limed soul ; that struggling to be free, 

Art more engaged ! Help, angels, make assay ! 

Bow, stubborn knees ! and, heart, with strings of steel, 

Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe : 

All may be well. Hamlet, Act III. Sc. 3. 

Othello. Where should Othello go ? 

Now, how dost thou look now ? O ill-starr'd wench ! 
Pale as thy smock ! When we shall meet at compt, 
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, 
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl ? 
Even like thy chastity. — 
O cursed, cursed slave ! Whip me, ye devils, 
From the possession of this heavenly sight ! 
Blow me about in winds ! roast me in sulphur ! 


Wash me in steep-down gnlfs of liquid fire ! 
O Desdemona ! Desdemona ! dead ? 

Othello, Act V. Sc. 2. 

Ov brj (paiverac 6 cj)av\os ovbe Trpbs kavrbv (pikiK&s 
hiaKzicrOai, bia to [i-qbev ^tv (jytXrjTov. Eth. IX. 4. 

QedjJLevoi to, ot/ceta (pavka ttclvtzs ahyovcnv. 

Rhet.IL 2,21. 

K. Rich. Give me another horse, — bind up my 
wounds, — 
Have mercy, Jesu ! — Soft ; I did but dream. — 
O, coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me ! 
The lights burn blue. — It is now dead midnight. 
Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. 
What do I fear ? myself ? there's none else by : 
Richard loves Richard ; that is, I am I. 
Is there a murderer here ? No : — Yes : I am. 
Then fly, — what, from myself ? Great reason : why ? 
Lest I revenge. What? Myself on myself? 
I love myself. Wherefore ? for any good 
That I myself have done unto myself ? 
O, no : alas, I rather hate myself, 
For hateful deeds committed by myself. 
I am a villain ! Yet I lie, 1 am not. 
Fool, of thyself speak well. — Fool, do not flatter. 
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, 
And every tongue brings in a several tale, 
And every tale condemns me for a villain. 
Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree ; 
Murder, stern murder, in the cuYst degree ; 


All several sins, all used in each degree, 

Throng to the bar, crying all — guilty ! guilty ! 

I shall despair. — There is no creature loves me ; 

And, if I die, no soul will pity me. — 

Nay, wherefore should they ? Since that I myself 

Find in myself no pity to myself. 

Methought, the souls of all that I had murdered 

Came to my tent : and every one did threat 

To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard. 

K. Richard III. Act V. Sc. 3. 

Ovbe br) o-yyyaipovcriv , ovbe crvvaXyovcriv ol iwyQr)pol 
kavTois* crrao-idCeL yap avr&v rj "v/o^r), Kal to jjl€V bia 
lAoy6y)piav aAyet, aireyopi^vov tlvg>v, to 8e rjbeTat' Kal 
to fjiev bevpo, to 8' e/ceto-e eA/cei, &o~ii€p btao-TT&VTa. 

Eth. IX. 4. 
Ang. Alack, when once our grace we have forgot, 
Nothing goes right ; we would, and we would not. 

Measure for Measure, Act IV. Sc. 4. 

Et br} to ovto)s eyjeiv Xiav ZcttIv aOXiov, (J)€vkt{ov 
ttjv iAoyQr)piav biaTtTajJiivm, Kal iretpaTiov ZmtLKr) 
thai. Eth. IX. 4. 


'OpyiCovrat — avrol — orav Xvn&vrai. 

Rhet. II, 2. 9. 

Cas. I did not think you could have been so angry. 

Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs. 

Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use, 
If you give place to accidental evils. 

Bru. No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead. 

Cas. Ha ! Portia ? 

Bru. She is dead. 

Cas. How 'scap'd I killing, when I cross' d you so ? 
O insupportable and touching loss ! — 

Julius Cesar, Act IV. Sc. 3. 

Menenius. Yet to bite his lip, 

And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me. 
He was not taken well : he had not din'd : 
The veins unfiird, our blood is cold, and then 
We pout upon the morning, are unapt 
To give or to forgive : but when we have stufTd 
These pipes and these conveyances of our blood 
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls 
Than in our priest-like fasts. 

CORIOLANUS, Act V. Sc. 1. 

Kent. O my good master ! \_Kneeling.~\ 

14 ANGER. 

Lear. Pry'thee, away. 
Ebg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend. 
Lear. A plague upon you,, murderers,, traitors all ! 
I might have sav'd her ; now she's gone for ever ! 

King Lear,, Act V. Sc. 3. 

'Opyi^erat — kav ravavria rv)(rj 7rpoo~b€x6p,€Vos' \v- 
77 et yap piakkov to irokv napa bo£av. Rhe T.I 1.2,11. 

Lear. You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, 
As full of grief as age, wretched in both ! 
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts 
Against their father, fool me not so much 
To bear it tamely ; touch me with noble anger ! 
O, let not women's weapons, water-drops, 
Stain my man's cheeks ! — No, you unnatural hags, 
I will have such revenges on you both, 
That all the world shall — I will do such things — 
What they are, yet I know not, but they shall be 
The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep ; 
No, I'll not weep : — 

I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart 
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws 
Or e'er I'll weep : O, fool, I shall go mad ! 

King Lear, Act II. Sc. 4. 

Cymbeline. O disloyal thing, 

That should' st repair my youth ; thou heapest 
A year's age on me ! 

Imogen. I beseech you, sir, 

ANGER. 15 

Harm not yourself with your vexation : I 
Am senseless of your wrath. 

Cymbeline, Act I. Sc. 2. 

'Opyi(ovrai — avrol orav \vttG>vt(ii — A to k&iavovtzs 
-—6^(0^769, opyikoL etcrt kcll €V7:ap6pfjir]TOL . 
*Opyi(ovTaL — rot? /ca/cwy Xiyovcriv, /cat KaTacppovovcn, 
T7€pl a avrol \Aaki<TTa crnovha(ovmv . 

Rhet. II. % 9. 10. 13. 

Hot. My liege,, I did deny no prisoners : 
But, I remember, when the fight was done, 
When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, 
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, 
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd, 
Fresh as a bridegroom ; and his chin, new reap'd, 
Shewed like a stubble-land at harvest-home : 
He was perfumed like a milliner ; 
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held 
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon 
He gave his nose, and took't away again ; 
Who, therewith angry, when it next came there, 
Took it in snuff: — and still he smil'd and talk'd : 
And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, 
He calFd them — untaught knaves, unmannerly, 
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse 
Betwixt the wind and his nobility. 
With many holiday and lady terms 
He questioned me : among the rest demanded 
My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf. 
I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold, 

16 ANGER. 

To be so pester' d with a popinjay,, 

Out of my grief and my impatience, 

Answered neglectingly, I know not what : 

He should, or he should not : — for he made me mad, 

To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, 

And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman, 

Of guns and drums and wounds (God save the mark !) 

And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth 

Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise ; 

And that it was great pity, so it was, 

That villainous saltpetre should be digg'd 

Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, 

Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd 

So cowardly ; and, but for these vile guns, 

He would himself have been a soldier. 

This bald disjointed chat of his, my lord, 

I answer'd indirectly, as I said. 

Part I. K. Henry IV. Act I. Sc. 3. 

'Opyi(ovrai rois /carayeXwcrt — vj3pi(ov<ri y&p. Kal 
toIs elptovtvojjLzvoLs irpbs cnrovbdCovras' KaTa(f)pOV7]TL' 
kov yap rj elpavita. Rhet. II. % 12. 24. 

Glend. At my nativity, 

The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, 
Of burning cressets ; and, at my birth, 
The frame and huge foundation of the earth 
Shak'd like a coward. 

Hot. Why so it would have done 

At the same season, if your mother's cat had 
But kitten'd, though yourself had ne'er been born. 

Glend. I say, the earth did shake when I was born. 

ANGER. 17 

Hot. And I say, the earth was not of my mind, 
If you suppose as fearing you it shook. 

Glend. The heavens were all on fire — the earth did 

Hot. O,, then the earth shook to see the heavens on 
And not in fear of your nativity. 

Glend. Cousin, of many men 

I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave 
To tell you once again,, — that, at my birth 
The front of heav'n was full of fiery shapes ; 
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds 
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. 
These signs have marked me extraordinary : 
And all the courses of my life do shew, 
I am not in the roll of common men. 
Where is he living — clipp'd in with the sea 
That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales — 
Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me ? 
And bring him out, that is but woman's son, 
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art, 
And hold me pace in deep experiments. 

Hot. I think there is no man speaks better Welsh. 
I will to dinner. 

Mort. Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. 

Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. 

Hot. Why, so can I ; or so can any man : 
But will they come, when you do call for them ? 

Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command 
The devil. 

Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, 

18 ANGER. 

By telling truth ; tell truth, and shame the devil. — 
If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, 
And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him hence. 
O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil. 

Mort. Come, Come, 
No more of this unprofitable chat. 

Part I. K. Henry IV. Act III. Sc. 1. 

'Opyi(ovrai tois re KCLTayeX&cn, kcll y\ev6,(ov<n, kclI 
VKtoTtTovviv vj3pi(ov(TL yap. Rhet. II. 2. 12. 

Helena. O spite ! O hell ! I see you all are bent 
To set against me, for your merriment. 
If you were civil, and knew courtesy, 
You would not do me thus much injury. 
Can you not hate me, as I know you do, 
But you must join, in souls, to mock me too ? 
If you were men, as men you are in show, 
You would not use a gentle lady so ; 
To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, 
When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts. 
You both are rivals, and love Hermia; 
And now both rivals, to mock Helena : 
A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, 
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes, 
With your derision ! none, of noble sort, 
Would so offend a virgin ; and extort 
A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport. 

Mids. Night's Dream, Act III. Sc. 2. 

ANGER. 19 

9 Qpyi(ovTai TOW 1X7} aVTLTTOLOV(riV €V 9 fJLTjbi TTJV lcrr)v 

avTa7robi,bov<n t Relet. II. 2. 

Pro. [aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy 
Of the beast Caliban, and his confederates, 
Against my life : the minute of their plot 
Is almost come — [to the spirits] Well done; — avoid; — 
no more. 

Fer. This is most strange : your father's in some 
That works him strongly. 

Mira. Never 'till this day, 
Saw I him touch' d with anger so distempered. 

Pro. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature 
Nurture can never stick ; on whom my pains, 
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost ; 
And as, with age, his body uglier grows, 
So his mind cankers. I will plague them all. 

Tempest, Act IV. Sc. 1. 

'QpyL(ovrai — rot? kclk&s kiyovcnv, kcll Karacppovovat, 
irepl a avrol iiaKicna cnrovha(ov(7iv. Rhet. II. 2. 13. 

Glend. I can speak English, lord, as well as you; 
For I was train'd up in the English court : 
Where, being but young, I framed to the harp 
Many an English ditty, lovely well, 
And gave the tongue a helpful ornament : 
A virtue that was never seen in you. 

Hot. Marry, and I'm glad of it with all my heart. 
I had rather be a kitten, and cry — mew, 

20 ANGER. 

Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers : 

I had rather hear a brazen canstick turned,, 

Or a dry wheel grate on an axle-tree ; 

And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, 

Nothing so much as mincing poetry : 

'Tis like the fore d gait of a shuffling nag. 

Mort. Fie, cousin Percy ! how you cross my father ! 

I warrant you, that man is not alive, 
Might so have tempted him as you have done 
Without the taste of danger and reproof; 
But do not use it oft, let me entreat you. 

Part I. K. Henry IV. Act III. Sc. 1. 

^Opyi(ovrai — rots fylXois ixaXkov r\ rois /xr) <£tAois* 
olovrai yap irpoo-rjKeLV piaWov Ttaayeiv ev vtt clvt&v, r\ 
ri. Rhet. II. 2, 15. 

Lysander. For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things 
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings ; 
Or, as the heresies, that men do leave, 
Are hated most of those they did deceive ; 
So thou, my surfeit, and my heresy, 
Of all be hated ; but the most of me ! 

Mids. Night's Dream, Act II. Sc. 3. 

Othello. Look here, Iago : 

All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven : 
'Tis gone. — 
Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell ! 

ANGER. 21 

Yield up, O love, thy crown, and hearted throne, 
To tyrannous hate ! swell, bosom, with thy fraught 
For 'tis of aspics' tongues. Othello, Act III. Sc. 3. 

K. Rich. Where is the earl of Wiltshire ? where is 
Bagot ? 
What is become of Bushy ? where is Green ? 
That they have let the dangerous enemy 
Measure our confines with such peaceful steps ? 
If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it. 
I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke. 

Scr. Peace they have made with him, indeed, my lord. 

K. Rich. O villains, vipers, damn d without redemp- 
Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man ! 
Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart ! 
Three Judasses, each one thrice worse than Judas ! 
Would they make peace ? terrible hell make war 
Upon their spotted souls for this offence ! 

Scr. Sweet love, I see, changing his property, 
Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate. 

King Rich. II. Act III. Sc. 2. 

*Opyi(ovrai — rot? fylXois, lav re (jltj eS Xiyaxnv, rj 
7T0LQ)(ri. Rhet. II. 2. 19. 

Lear. Now, our joy, 

Although the last, not least : to whose young love, 
The vines of France, and milk of Burgundy, 
Strive to be interess'd : what can you say, to draw 
A third more opulent than your sisters ? Speak. 

22 ANGER. 

Cor. Nothing, my lord. 

Lear. Nothing? 

Cor. Nothing. 

Lear. Nothing can come of nothing : speak again. 

Cor. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave 
My heart into my mouth : I love your majesty 
According to my bond ; nor more, nor less. 

Lear. How, how, Cordelia? mend your speech a little, 
Lest it may mar your fortunes. 

Cor. Good my lord, 
You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me : I 
Return those duties back as are right fit, 
Obey you, love you, and most honour you. 
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say, 
They love you all ? Haply, when I shall wed, 
That lord, whose hand must take my plight, shall carry 
Half my love with him, half my care, and duty : 
Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, 
To love my father all. 

Lear. But goes this with thy heart ? 

Cor. Ay, good my lord. 

Lear. So young, and so untender ? 

Cor. So young, my lord, and true. 

Lear. Let it be so. Thy truth then be thy dower : 
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun ; 
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night ; 
By all the operations of the orbs, 
From whom we do exist, and cease to be ; 
Here I disclaim all my paternal care, 
Propinquity and property of blood, 
And as a stranger to my heart and me 
Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian 
Or he that makes his generations messes 

ANGER. 23 

To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom 
Be as well neighboured, pitied, and relieved 
As thou my sometime daughter. 

King Lear, Act I. Sc. 1. 

*Opyi(ovTai — rots ddicrixzvois Tifxav, rj iftpovTifav, 
kav irdkiv fxr] ovtms o/xtAcocn. Rhet. II. 2. 16. 

Lear. How now ? where' s that mongrel ? 

Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. 

Lear. Why came not the slave back to me when I 
call'd him ? 

Knight. Sir, he answer'd me in the roundest man- 
ner, he would not. 

Lear. He would not ! 

Knight. My lord, I know not what the matter is ; 
but, to my judgment, your highness is not entertained 
with that ceremonious affection as you were wont : 
there's a great abatement of kindness appears, as well 
in the general dependants, as in the duke himself also, 
and your daughter. 

Lear. Ha, sayest thou so ? 

Knight. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be 
mistaken ; for my duty cannot be silent when I think 
your highness is wronged. 

Lear. Thou but rememberest me of mine own con- 
ception ; I have perceived a most faint neglect of late : 
which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous cu- 
riosity, than as a very pretence and purpose of unkind- 
ness. I will look further into it. 

King Lear, Act I. Sc. 4. 

24 ANGER. 

Tots KdKa ayyikkovcnv 6pyi(ovrai. 

Rhet. II. % 20. 
Northumb. The first bringer of unwelcome news 
Hath but a losing office. 

Part II. K. Henry IV. Act I. Sc. 1. 

Const. Fellow,, be gone ; I cannot brook thy sight ; 
This news hath made thee a most ugly man. 

Sal. What other harm have I, good lady, done, 
But spoke the harm that is by others done ? 

Const. Which harm within itself so heinous is, 
As it makes harmful all that speak of it. 

King John, Act III. Sc. ] . 

Queen. Gardener, for telling me this news of woe, 
I would, the plants thou graft'st, may never grow ! 

King Richard II. Act III. Sc. 4. 

Rosse. No mind that's honest 

But in it shares some woe : tho' the main part 
Pertains to you alone. 

Macd. If it be mine 

Keep it not from me ; quickly let me have it. 

Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, 
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound 
That ever yet they heard. Macbeth, Act IV. Sc. 3. 

ANGER. 25 

Enter a Messenger. 
Macb. Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. 

Mess. Gracious my lord,, 
I shall report that which I say I saw, 
But know not how to do it. 

Macb. Well, say, sir. 

Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, 
I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought 
The wood began to move. 

Macb. Liar, and slave ! [Striking him.~\ 

Macbeth, Act V. Sc. 5. 

Mess. Madam, he's married to Octavia. 

Cleo. The most infectious pestilence upon thee! 

[Strikes him down.] 

Mess. Good madam, patience. 

Cleo. What say you ? — hence, [Strikes him again.~\ 
Horrible villain ! or I'll spurn thine eyes 
Like balls before me ; I'll unhair thy head ; 

[She hales him up and down.~\ 
Thou shalt be whipped with wire, and stew'd in brine, 
Smarting in ling'ring pickle. 

Mess. Gracious madam, 
I, that do bring the news, made not the match. 

Cleo. Say, 'tis not so, a province I will give thee, 
And make thy fortunes proud : the blow thou hadst 
Shall make thy peace, for moving me to rage ; 
And I will boot thee with what gift beside 
Thy modesty can beg. 

Mess. He's married, madam. 

Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liv'd too long. [Draws a 

Mess. Nay then, I'll run : — dagger, ,] 


26 ANGER. 

What mean you, madam ? I have made no fault. [Exit.'] 

Re-enter Messenger. 
Cleo. Though it be honest, it is never good 
To bring bad news : give to a gracious message 
A host of tongues ; but let ill tidings tell 
Themselves, when they be felt. 

Antony and Cleopatra, Act II. Sc. 5. 

'Opyi(ovrai rots dXtycapovcriv. Rhet. II. 3. 3. 

Sicinius. Forget not 

With what contempt he wore the humble weed : 
How in his suit he scorn' d you : but your loves, 
Thinking upon his services, took from you 
The apprehension of his present portance, 
Which gibingly, ungravely he did fashion 
After the inveterate hate he bears you. 

Coriolanus, Act II. Sc. 3. 

Marcius. Advance, brave Titus : 

They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, 
Which makes me sweat with wrath. 


*Opyi(ovTai rois re KarayeX&cn kcu y\tva(ovcn, kclI 

(TKtoTTTOVCFLV' vfipi&VCTl yap' €TL, 6pyi(€Tai kaV TCLVOLV- 

Tia rvyji Trpoo-b^xo^vos. Rhet. II. 2. 12^ 11. 

Othello. Had it pleas'd heaven 

ANGER. 27 

To try me with affliction ; had he rain'd 

All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head ; 

Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips ; 

Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes ; 

I should have found in some part of my soul 

A drop of patience : but (alas !) to make me 

A fixed figure, for the time of scorn 

To point his slow unmoving finger at, — 


Yet could I bear that too ; well, very well : 

But there, where I have garner'd up my heart ; 

Where either I must live, or bear no life ; 

The fountain from the which my current runs, 

Or else dries up ; to be discarded thence ! 

Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads 

To knot and gender in ! — turn thy complexion there ! 

Patience, thou young and rose-lipped cherubim ; 

Ay, there, look grim as hell ! 

Othello, Act IV. Sc. 2. 

^Opyi(ovrai rot? ravavria ttolovctlv avrois, iav rjr- 
tovs <3crt' Kara(ppov€lv yap iravrts ol tolovtol (fraivov- 
rai' — kclI rots 7] aKOvovcn irepl avr&v, rj tfeco/xeVots ra 
clvt&v <fiav\a' o/xotot yap elacv rj oAtyco poverty, 7) e^(- 
Opois. Rhet. II. 2.17, 21. 

Timon. Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, 
I'd be good to thee. 

Apem. No, I'll nothing : for, 
If I should be brib'd too, there would be none left 
To rail upon thee : and then thou would' st sin the faster, 


28 ANGER. 

Thou giv'st so long, Timon, I fear me, thou 

Wilt give away thyself in paper shortly : 

What need these feasts, pomps, and vain glories ? 

Tim. Nay, 
An you begin to rail on society once, 
I am sworn not to give regard to you. 
Farewell ; and come with better music. 

Timon of Athens, Act I. Sc. 2. 

"Etl rots dXiyapovcn npbs tt4vt€, 7rp6s oi)s <$>iXoti- 
Iaovvtcll, 7T/30S ovs 6aviAa(ovcriv, vcj) &v fiovkovTcu 6av- 
lAafccrOai, TTpbs oi)s aicr^yvovrai, rj kv rots alcr^yvo- 
\xivois avTovs* av rts kv tovtols dkiytopfj, 6pyi(ovT<xi 
\xaXkov. Rhet. II. 2. 22. 

Shylock. He rails 

Even there where merchants most do congregate, 
On me, my bargains, and my well- won thrift, 
Which he calls interest : Cursed be my tribe, 
If I forgive him. 

Merchant of Venice, Act I. Sc. 3 

'Opyi(ovTai — rots ets roiavra oXtytopovcnv, virep &v 
avrots aloyjpbv fXT\ fioiqOeiv olov yoz>ets, reKva, yvvai- 
Kas, apxop<4vovs. Rhet. II. 2. 23. 

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn : 
Call not your stocks for me : I serve the king ; 
On whose employment I was sent to you : 
You shall do small respect, shew too bold malice 

ANGER. 29 

Against the grace and person of my master, 
Stocking his messenger. 

Corn. Fetch forth the stocks ! 

Glo. Let me beseech your grace not to do so : 
His fault is much, and the good king his master 
Will check him for't : your purposed low correction 
Is such, as basest and contemned'st wretches, 
For pilferings and most common trespasses, 
Are punished with : the king must take it ill, 
That he's so slightly valued in his messenger, 
Should have him thus restrained. 

Corn. I'll answer that. 

Reg. My sister may receive it much more worse, 
To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted, 
For following her affairs. — 

King Lear, Act II. Sc. 2. 



Aet yap iirl tow ava£i(*>$ TrpaTTovcn ev vtjJLecrqV 
hhiKOV yap to irapa ttjv a^iav yiyvoixevov. 

Rhet. II. 9. 2. 

Corn. Why art thou angry ? 

Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword, 
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, 
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain 
Which are too intrinse t'unloose : smooth every passion 
That in the natures of their lords rebels ; 
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods ; 
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks 
With every gale and vary of their masters, 
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following. — 

King Lear, Act II. Sc. 2. 

'AvayKrj, rots to avTo typvcriv ayaObv, iav ^eoxrrt 
€xovt€s Tvyyjwtovi, Kal bib, tovto evTTpay&cn, jxaXXov 
V€[X€a-av. MaXXov yap Xvttovctlv ol vg&otX — apxovTes 
Kal bvvdfX€VOL — tG>v iraXai. Kal ha yivovs. 

Rhet. II. 9. 9. 

AvtoI he vefxeo-rjTLKOL dcriv — eaz; tyiXoTiiioi, Kal 6p€- 
yopLtvoC TLVtov TTpaypLCLTtoV, Kal ixaXicTTa 7T€pl TavTa <j)L- 
Xotljjlol 8>criv, S>v ere/)06 ava^ioi ovtcs TvyyjLVovo-i. Kal 


Sk(t>s ol cl£lovvt€$ avTol clvtovs, &v kripovs \aj] a£ioii(ri, 


Rhet. II. 9. 14, 15. 

<$>0OVOV(TLV SiV rj KeKTTjfJL4v(s)V, 7] K(XTOp0OVVT(s>V, OV- 

ei§o? avTois, EtVt Se koX ovtol iyyvs kcll o//otof 877- 
kov yap, otl nap avrovs ov rvyyavovcri rov ayaOov' 

&(TT€ TOVTO X.VTTOVV 7TOtet TOP (f)66vOV. 

Rhet. II. 10. 8. 

Cassius. I was born free as Caesar; so were you : 
We both have fed as well ; and we can both 
Endure the winter's cold as well as he. 
For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, 
Caesar said to me, " Dar'st thou, Cassius, now 
Leap in with me into this angry flood, 
And swim to yonder point ?" Upon the word, 
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, 
And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did. 
The torrent roar'd ; and we did buffet it 
With lusty sinews ; throwing it aside 
And stemming it with hearts of controversy. 
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd, 
Caesar cried, " Help me, Cassius, or I sink." 
I, as iEneas, our great ancestor, 
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder 
The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tiber 
Did I the tired Caesar : and this man 
Is now become a god ; and Cassius is 
A wretched creature, and must bend his body, 
If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. 
He had a fever when he was in Spain, 
And, when the fit was on him, I did mark 



How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake : 

His coward lips did from their colour fly ; 

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, 

Did lose his lustre : I did hear him groan : 

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans 

Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 

Alas ! it cried, " Give me some drink, Titinius," 

As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me, 

A man of such a feeble temper should 

So get the start of the majestic world, 

And bear the palm alone. 

. What should be in that Caesar ? 
Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? 
Write them together, yours is as fair a name ; 
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well ; 
Weigh them, it is as heavy ; conjure them, 
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. 
Now in the names of all the gods at once, 
Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, 
That he is grown so great ? 

Julius CiESAR, Act I. Sc. 2. 

Rhet. II. 10. 8. 
Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector ? 
Path. Ay ; and, perhaps, receive much honour by 

Achil. I see, my reputation is at stake ; 
My fame is shrewdly gor'd. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act III. Sc. 3. 


To ve^crav — Xvneicrdai inl r<3 (patvofxivio ava£i(*)$ 
twrpayziv. 'AvayKTj rots to avrb tyovcriv ayaObv, tav 
V€(0(ttI c)(ovt€s rvyyaviiXTi, kcu hiOL tovto tvTtpayGxn, 
fxaXXov v€fx€(rav. Rhet. II. 9. 7, 9. 

Groom. O, how it yearn' d my heart, when I beheld, 
In London streets, that coronation day, 
When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary ! 
That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid ; 
That horse, that I so carefully have dress' d ! 

K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle 
How went he under him ? 

Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the ground. 

K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back ! 
That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand ; 
This hand hath made him proud with clapping him. 
Would he not stumble ? would he not fall down, 
(Since pride must have a fall,) and break the neck 
Of that proud man that did usurp his back ? 

K. Richard II. Act V. Sc. 5. 

Ne/xecrr^rt/cot elcriv, — iav (£iAon/xot, kol opeyofievoC 
Tivmv TTpayfJL&Ttov, kol /xaAtcrra 7T€pl ravra (pikoriyLOi 


Rhet. II. 9. 14. 

Ulyss. Why, even already 

They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder ; 
As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast, 
And great Troy shrinking. 



Achil. I do believe it : for they pass'd by me, 
As misers do by beggars : neither gave to me 
Good word, nor look : What, are my deeds forgot ? 
Troilus and Cressida, Act III. Sc. 3. 

01 agiovvres avrol clvtovs, S>v krzpovs fjLrj a^iovcri, 


Iago. " Certes," says he, 

c< I have already chose my officer/' 
And what was he ? 
Forsooth, a great arithmetician, 
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, 
A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife ; 
That never set a squadron in the field, 
Nor the division of a battle knows 
More than a spinster ; unless the bookish theoric, 
Wherein the toged consuls can propose 
As masterly as he : mere prattle, without practice, 
Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election : 
And I, — of whom his eyes had seen the proof, 
At Rhodes, at Cyprus ; and on other grounds 
Christian and heathen, — must be be-lee'd and calm'd 
By debitor and creditor, this counter-caster ; 
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, 
And I, (God bless the mark !) his Moorship's ancient. 

Othello, Act I. Sc. 1. 


Kat to pkv [scil. 17 opyrj] X.v7Trjs €(f)€<ri$, to be [fu- 
0"os] kclkov. Aiadicr8aL yap fiovXtTai 6 dpyi(6fJL€Vos' 
r<3 be ovbev bia^epeu Rhet. II. 4. 31. 

Ham. Now might I do it, pat, now he is praying ; 
And now I'll do't ; and so he goes to heaven : 
And so am I reveng'd ? That would be scann'd : 
A villain kills my father ; and, for that., 
1, his sole son, do this same villain send 
To heaven. 

Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge. 
He took my father grossly, full of bread ; 
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May ; 
And, how his audit stands, who knows, save heaven ? 
But, in our circumstance and course of thought, 
'Tis heavy with him : And am I then reveng'd, 
To take him in the purging of his soul, 
When he is fit and season'd for his passage ? 

Up, sword ; and know thou a more horrid hent : 
When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage ; 
Or in the incestuous pleasures of his bed ; 
At gaming, swearing ; or about some act 
That has no relish of salvation in't : 
Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven : 
And that his soul may be as damn'd, and black, 
As hell, whereto it goes. Hamlet, Act III. Sc. 3. 



e H [A€V opyy\ ael ire pi ra kcl6 j e/caora' to Se fxiaos 
kclI TTpbs tcl ykvr\ — c O pL€v dpyi(6fjL€vo$, iroW&v av ye- 
vofiivcdv, zXerjoreiev 6 be, ovbevos. 

Rhet. II. 4. 81. 

Timon. [To Alcihiades7\ Here's gold, — go on; 
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove 
Will o'er some high-vic'd city hang his poison 
In the sick air : Let not thy sword skip one ; 
Pity not honoured age for his white beard, 
He's an usurer : Strike me the counterfeit matron ; 
It is her habit only that is honest, 
Herself 's a bawd : Let not the virgin's cheek 
Make soft thy trenchant sword ; for those milk-paps, 
That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, 
Are not within the leaf of pity writ, 
Set them down horrible traitors : Spare not the babe, 
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; 
Think it a bastard, whom the oracle 
Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat shall cut, 
And mince it sans remorse : Swear against objects ; 
Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes ; 
Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, 
Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, 
Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy soldiers ; 
Make large confusion ; and, thy fury spent, 
Confounded be thyself ! 

Timon of Athens, Act IV. Sc. 3. 


<£>6ovr\crov(ri ol tolovtol — ots \xiKpov iXXehrei to fxrj 
iiavra vitapyjEiV bib ol pceydka irp&TTOVTts kcu ol evru- 
Xpvvres <\)6ovepoi dcriv. Rhet. II. 10. 2. 

Macb. Glamis, and tliane of Cawdor ! 

The greatest is behind. Thanks for your pains. 

Macb. Act I. Sc. 3. 

Ulysses. Honour travels in a strait so narrow, 
Where one but goes abreast : keep then the path ; 
For emulation hath a thousand sons, 
That one by one pursue : If you give way, 
Or hedge aside from the direct forthwright, 
Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by, 
And leave you hindmost ; — 
Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, 
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, 
O'er-run and trampled on. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act III. Sc. 3. 

Tots iyyvs kcll yjooVc*), kcll roVo), kcll rjkiKiq, kcl\ 
bogrj, (fiOovovo-LV — /cat rots rj ^ovctl tclvtcl, rj /ce/crr//xe- 
vois, a avrdls Trpoo-rJKtv, rj £k€kt7ivt6 irore. 

Rhet. 11.10.5,9. 

King. He made confession of you ; 


And gave you such a masterly report, 

For art and exercise in your defence, 

And for your rapier most especial, 

That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeed, 

If one could match you : the scrimers of their nation, 

He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye, 

If you oppos'd them ; Sir, this report of his 

Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy, 

That he could nothing do, but wish and beg 

Your sudden coming o'er, to play with you. 

Hamlet, Act IV. Sc. 7- 

Troilus. Hear why I speak it, love ; 
The Grecian youths are full of quality ; 
They're loving, well composed, with gifts of nature 

And swelling o'er with arts and exercise ; 
How novelty may move, and parts with person, 
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy 
(Which I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,) 
Makes me afeard. 

Cressida. O heavens ! you love me not. 

Troilus. Die I a villain then ! 
In this I do not call your faith in question, 
So mainly as my merit : I cannot sing, 
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk, 
Nor play at subtle games ; fair virtues all, 
To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant : 
But I can tell, that in each grace of these 
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil, 
That tempts most cunningly : but be not tempted. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act IV. Sc. 4. 


[* kbiKovcTL] ot t ivavTLot rots iyKXrjfjiacrLV — kcu ol 
cr(f)6bpa tvboKLfAovvTes* Rhet. I. 12. 5, 16. 

Isabel. Sign me a present pardon for my brother, 
Or, with an outstretch' d throat, I'll tell the world 
Aloud, what man thou art. 

Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel ? 
My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life, 
My vouch against you, and my place i'the state, 
Will so your accusation overweigh, 
That you shall stifle in your own report, 
And smell of calumny. 

Measure for Measure, Act II. Sc. 4. 

'AbiKOvcri — tovs vtto ttoW&v abiKYjOevras /cat fxrj 
e7refeA.0oVras, ws ovras Kara rr\v irapoi/jLiav tovtovs 
Mvct&v Xziav. Rhet. I. 12. 20. 

Duch. In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd, 
Thou show'st the naked pathway to thy life, 
Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee : 

What shall I say ? to safeguard thine own life, 
The best way is — to 'venge my Gloster's death. 

King Rich. II. Act I. Sc. 2. 



kovvtcll* eyyvs ydp tl So/cet rov fxrj abiKtiv tlvai, otolv 
Tl TOIOVTOV abLKrjOfj Tl$, 0X0V tl(&0€L kol avrbs abiKtlv. 

Rhet. 1. 12. 26. 

Macb. But, in these cases, 

We still have judgment here ; that we but teach 
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return 
To plague th' inventor : This even-handed justice 
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice 
To our own lips. Macb. Act I. Sc. 7- 

'AbiKovo-i — oh \apiovvrai rj <j)(\oi.s, r) 6avixa(ojii- 
vois, rj kptofxzvois, rj tcvpiois, r) oXoas irpos ovs (Gxnv av- 
roL Rhet. I. 12. 28. 

King. England, if my love thou hold'st at aught, 
(As my great power thereof may give thee sense ; 
Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red 
After the Danish sword, and thy free awe 
Pays homage to us,) thou may'st not coldly set 
Our sovereign process ; which imports at full, 
By letters conjuring to that effect, 
The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England; 
For like the hectic in my blood he rages, 
And thou must cure me : 'till I know 'tis done, 
Howe'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin. 

Hamlet, Act IV. Sc. 3. 

'AbtKovat — oh av ZyKtKXrjKOTes dm, kclI 7rpobtaK€- 


Xcopr^fcores* kcu yap tcl roiavra kyyvs tov jutrj abtKelv 
QaCverai. Rhet. 1. 12. 29. 

Hast. Fear you not that : if we can make our peace 
Upon such large terms, and so absolute, 
As our conditions shall consist upon, 
Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains. 

Mowb. Ay, but our valuation shall be such, 
That every slight and false-derived cause, 
Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason, 
Shall, to the king, taste of this action : 
That were our royal faiths martyrs in love, 
We shall be winnow' d with so rough a wind, 
That, even our corn shall seem as light as chaff, 
And good from bad find no partition. 

Part II. K. Henry IV. Act IV. Sc. 1. 

Wor. It is not possible, it cannot be, 
The king should keep his word in loving us ; 
He will suspect us still, and find a time 
To punish this offence in other faults : 
Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes : 
For treason is but trusted like the fox ; 
Who, ne'er so tame, so cherished, and lock'd up, 
Will have a wild trick of his ancestors. 
Look how we can, or sad, or merrily, 
Interpretation will misquote our looks ; 
And we shall feed like oxen at a stall, 
The better cherish' d, still the nearer death. 
My nephew's trespass may be well forgot, 
It hath the excuse of youth, and heat of blood ; 
And an adopted name of privilege, — 
A hare-brain' d Hotspur, govern d by a spleen : 


All his offences live upon my head, 
And on his father's ; — we did train him on ; 
And, his corruption being ta'en from us, 
We, as the spring of all, shall pay for all. 

Part I. K. Henry IV. Act V. Sc. 2. 

'AbucovcTL tovs fir] cvXafiels, fxrjbe <j>v\aKTLKOvs, dAAa 

7H(TT€VTLK0VS. RhET. I. 12. 19. 

Edm. A credulous father, and a brother noble, 
Whose nature is so far from doing harms, 
That he suspects none ; on whose foolish honesty 
My practices ride easy ! I see the business. — 
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit. 

King Lear, Act I Sc. 2. 

Av£r)(nv \a[xfiavei \ra aSi/ca] rc3 jjlclWov irpbs (f>L- 
Xovs etvai' olov — 7rara£a6 7raripa r) ovnvaovv oXKov. 

Eth. 8. 9. 

Lear. Filial ingratitude ! 

Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand, 

For lifting food to't ? — but I will punish home : 

No, I will weep no more. — In such a night 

To shut me out ! — Pour on ; I will endure : — 

In such a night as this ! O Regan, Goneril ! — 

Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all, — 

O, that way madness lies ; let me shun that ; 

No more of that. — King Lear, Act III. Sc. 4. 


['ASt'/aj/xa be ixel(ov] el tovtov [d8t/cet] vcf) ov ev 
TreiTovOe' 7rAeta> yap abate?, on re /ca/c<Ss notel, /cat on 
ovk ev. Rhet. I. 14. 6. 

K. Henry. My lord of Cambridge here, — 

You know, how apt our love was, to accord 
To furnish him with all appertinents 
Belonging to his honour ; and this man 
Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspir'd, 
And sworn unto the practices of France, 
To kill us here in Hampton : to the which, 
This knight, no less for bounty bound to us 
Than Cambridge is, — hath likewise sworn — But O ! 
What shall I say to thee, lord Scroop ; thou cruel, 
Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature ! 
Thou, that did'st bear the key of all my counsels, 
That knew'st the very bottom of my soul, 
That almost might'st have coin'd me into gold, 
Would' st thou have practis'd on me for thy use ? 
May it be possible, that foreign hire 
Could out of thee extract one spark of evil, 
That might annoy my finger ? 'tis so strange, 
That, though the truth of it stands off as gross 
As black from white, my eye will scarcely see it. 

King Henry V. Act II. Sc. 2. 


UpqoC dcri — rois dpLoXoyovo-L koX /xera/xeXovjutez/ot? — 
kclI toUs Taireivov pivots TTpOS clvtovs, 

Rhet. II. 3. 5, 6. 

Pro. My shame and guilt confound me. — 
Forgive me, Valentine : if hearty sorrow 
Be a sufficient ransom for offence, 
I tender it here ; I do as truly suffer, 
As e'er I did commit. 

Val. Then I am paid ; 

And once again I do receive thee honest : — 
Who by repentance is not satisfied, 
Is nor of heaven nor earth. 

Two Gent, of Ver. Act V. Sc. 4. 

UpqoL elort, — rols StopiivoLs /cat TrapaLTOvfiivo is. 

Rhet. II. 3. 8. 
Bol. What is the matter with our cousin now ? 
Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the earth, 

My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, 
Unless a pardon, ere I rise, or speak. 

Bol. Intended, or committed, was this fault ? 
If but the first, how heinous e'er it be, 
To win thy after-love, I pardon thee. 

Rich. II. Act V. Sc. 3. 


Tots dY opyrjv Tronfjo-aaLV rj ovk 6pyi(ovTai, rj tjttov 
6pyC{ovr(u. Rhet. II. 3. 11. 

Cas. Hath Cassius liv'd 
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus., 
When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him ? 

Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too. 

Cass. Do you confess so much ? give me your hand. 

Bru. And my heart too. 

Cass. O Brutus ! — 

Bru. What's the matter ? 

Cass. Have you not love enough to bear with me, 
When that rash humour, which my mother gave me, 
Makes me forgetful ? 

Bru. Yes, Cassius; and, henceforth, 
When you are over earnest with your Brutus^ 
Hell think your mother chides, and leave you so. 

Julius CjEsar, Act IV. Sc. 3. 


<£>l\0V(TL TOVS T&V (j)ik(i)V (f)ik0V9, KCU (jyikovvTas, 

ovs avTol (f>ikovcn. Rhet. II. 4. 6. 

Pro. The best way is to slander Valentine 
With falsehood, cowardice., and poor descent ; 
Three things that women highly hold in hate. 

Duke. Ay,, but she'll think, that it is spoke in hate. 

Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it : 
Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken 
By one, whom she esteemeth as his friend. 

Two Gent, of Ver. Act III. Sc. 2. 

Ilept be tyOpas kcu tov fjao-elv (fravepbv, d>s £k t&v 
kvavrmv ecm Qeap&v. Rhet. II. 4. 30. 

Lear. [To France^] I would not from your love 
make such a stray, 
To match you where I hate ; therefore beseech you 
To avert your liking a more worthier way, 
Than on a wretch whom nature is asham'd 
Almost to acknowledge hers. 

France. Fairest Cordelia, thou art most rich, being 
Most choice, forsaken ; and most lov'd, despis'd ! 
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon : 


Be it lawful, I take up what's cast away. 

Gods, gods ! 'tis strange, that from their cold'st neglect 

My love should kindle to inflam'd respect. — 

Thy dowerless daughter., king,, thrown to my chance., 

Is queen of us,, of ours, and our fair France : 

Not all the dukes of wat'rish Burgundy 

Shall buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me. — 

Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind : 

Thou losest here, a better where to find. 

Lear. Thou hast her., France: let her be thine; for we 
Have no such daughter., nor shall ever see 
That face of hers again : — Therefore be gone. 
Without our grace, our love, our benison. 

King Lear, Act I. Sc. 1. 


OVS aVTol fJLKTOVO-L. RHET. II. 4. 7. 

Stew. I am none of this, my lord; I beseech you, 
pardon me. 

Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal ? 

[Striking him J] 

Stew. I'll not be struck, my lord. 

Kent. Nor tripped neither ; you base foot-ball 
player. [Tripping up his heels. ] 

Lear. I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and 
I'll love thee. 

Kent. Come, sir, arise, away ; I'll teach you differ- 
ences ; away, away : If you will measure your lubber's 
length again, tarry : but away : go to ; have you wis- 
dom? so. [Pushes the steward out.'] 


Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee : there's 
earnest of thy service. [Giving Kent money.'] 

King Lear, Act I. Sc. 4. 

CORIOLANUS. I will fight 

Against my canker' d country with the spleen 
Of all the under fiends. 

Aufidius. O Marcius, Marcius, 
Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart 
A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter 
Should from yon cloud speak divine things, and say, 
" 'Tis true :" I'd not believe them more than thee, 
All noble Marcius. — O, let me twine 
Mine arms about that body, where against 
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke, 
And scar'd the moon with splinters ! Here I clip 
The anvil of my sword ; and do contest, 
As hotly and as nobly with thy love, 
As ever in ambitious strength I did 
Contend against thy valour. 

Coriolanus, Act IV. Sc. 5. 

Qikovcri — tovs ixicrovixivovs vtto t&v havTois ijlktov- 
pzvtov. Rhet. II. 4. 7. 

Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy, 
Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke : 
And that same sword-and-buckler prince of Wales, — 
But that I think his father loves him not, 


And would be glad he met with some mischance, 
I'd have him poison d with a pot of ale. 

Part I. K. Henry IV. Act I. Sc. 3. 

Upoaayopevovo-L a>$ (frtkovs, tovs o-vpLirXovs, kcll tovs 
(Tva-Tpar motcls* 6/xo tcos §e kcll tovs ev rats aXkais kol- 

VtoVLdLS. ETH. VIII. 9- 

K. Henry. We few, we happy few,, we band of 
brothers ; 
For he, to-day that sheds his blood with me, 
Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er so vile, 
This day shall gentle his condition : 
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed, 
Shall think themselves accursed, they were not here ; 
And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks, 
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day. 

K. Henry V. Act IV. Sc. 3. 

01 ayaOol, hi avrovs (f)C\oL' fj yap ayadoL 

Eth. VIII. 4. 

Ham. Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, 
And could of men distinguish her election, 
She hath seal'd thee for herself: for thou hast been 
As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing ; 
A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards 
Hast ta'en with equal thanks : and blest are those, 
Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, 
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger 




To sound what stop she please : give me that man 
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him 
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, 
As I do thee. Hamlet, Act III. Sc. 2. 

Kqv r(3 TioiovvTL he adyj\\kO(Tvvy\v <peprj } kcu ravTrjv 
fir} [MKpav, rj /3kaf3riV rj 8' evavritovis puKpav Xvirrjv, 
ovk cmohe^erai, aAAa hvoytpavti. Eth. IV. 6. 

Proteus. Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather choose 
To cross my friend in his intended drift, 
Than, by concealing it, heap on your head 
A pack of sorrows, which would press you down 
Being unprevented, to your timeless grave. 

Two Gent, of Ver. Act. III. Sc. 1. 

"E/caOTOt €V TOVTCd CTVVr]IJL€p€VOVT€S, O ,Tl 7T6/) /XaAiOTa 

ayaTiGxTi t&v ev rep /3tar (rv{fjv yap j3ovkopievoi /xera 


oiovrai (rv(r)v. Eth. IX. 12. 

Helena. O, and is all forgot ? 

All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence ? 
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, 
Have with our neelds created both one flower, 
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, 
Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; 
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, 
Had been incorporate. So we grew together, 
Like to a double-cherry, seeming parted, 


But yet a union in partition ; 
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem : 
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart ; 
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, 
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest. 

Mids. Night's Dream, Act III. Sc. 2. 

01 8' aTiobeyojxtvoi aWrjkovs, /xr) au^&vres Se, evvois 

ZOLKCLCTL {JLClWoV, Yj (pikOLS* Ovblv yap oiV(0? k<TTL (j)ik(i)V 
CDS TO (TvCfjv. ETH. VIII. 5. 

K. Henry. How chance, thou art not with the 
prince thy brother ? 
He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas ; 
Thou hast a better place in his affection, 
Than all thy brothers : cherish it, my boy ; 
And noble offices thou mayest effect 
Of mediation, after I am dead, 
Between his greatness and thy other brethren : — 
Therefore, omit him not : blunt not his love : 
Nor lose the good advantage of his grace, 
By seeming cold, or careless of his will. 

Part II. K. Henry IV. Act IV. Sc. 4. 

Ov pdbiov ovbtvl 7uoTewcu Trepl rov kv 7roAA<3 X/ 00 '^ 
vtt avr&v beboKLfxaa-jjiivov. Eth. VIII. 4. 

Lear. What's he, that hath so much thy place mis- 
To set thee here ? 



Kent. It is both he and she, 
Your son and daughter. 

Lear. No. 

Kent. Yes. 

Lear. No, I say. 

Kent. I say, yea. 

Lear. No, no ; they would not. 

Kent. Yes, they have. 

Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no. 

Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay. 

Lear. They durst not do't ; 
They could not, would not do't : 'tis worse than mur- 
To do upon respect such violent outrage. 

King Lear, Act II. Sc. 4. 

Et 8' 6 pkv btafjievoL' 6 8' eme^/ceo-repos yivotro, kclI 
ttoXv btaWcLTTOL rfj aperfj, dpa yjp-qa-riov <£tAo> ; tj ovk 

€vb£x.€Tcu ; ^kp ovv ovOev akkoiorepov irpbs 

avrbv £kt£ov, rj et /xr) tyeyovei tyikos pL-qbiirore ; 77 8et 
pLV€Lav tytiv rrjs yevopiivrjs crvvrjOeias ; Eth. IX. 3. 

Falstaff. My king ! My Jove ! I speak to thee, 
my heart ! 

King. I know thee not, old man : fall to thy prayers ; 
How ill white hairs become a fool, and jester ! 
I have long dream' d of such a kind of man, 
So surfeit-swelFd, so old, and so profane ; 
But, being awake, I do despise my dream. 
Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace ; 
Leave gormandizing ; know, the grave doth gape 


For thee thrice wider than for other men : — 

Reply not to me with a fool-born jest ; 

Presume not, that I am the thing I was ; 

For heaven doth know,, so shall the world perceive, 

That I have turn'd away my former self; 

So will I those that kept me company. 

When thou dost hear I am as I have been, 

Approach me ; and thou shalt be as thou wast, 

The tutor and the feeder of my riots : 

Till then, I banish thee, on pain of death, — 

As I have done the rest of my misleaders, — 

Not to come near our person by ten mile. 

For competence of life, I will allow you, 

That lack of means enforce you not to evil : 

And, as we hear you do reform yourselves, 

We will, — according to your strength, and qualities, 

Give you advancement. 

Part II. K. Henry IV. Act V. Sc. 5. 

Kara avfJLpefirjKos re brj al (pikicu avrai claw ov 
yap rj £<ttiv, o$ irori kvriv 6 (ptXoviJLevos, tclvty] <£iAei- 
rai, dAA' fj TTOpi(ov(nv, ol [X€v ayaOov tl, ol 8' rjhovr\v 
YivhioXvToi brj al roiavral eto"t, /jltj biafJL€v6vTG>v avr&v 
o/xoiW. Eth.VIH. 3. 

Ulysses. The amity] that wisdom knits not, folly 
may easily untie. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act II. Sc. 3. 

Ol ha to xprjaifjiov ovtzs (bikoi, a\ia r<2 avfAcfri- 


povn haXvovrat' ov yap aXXrjXcav rjcrav (jyiXot, aXXa 


Timon. Go you,, Sir, {To another Servant] to the 
(Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have 
Deserv'd this hearing,) bid 'em send o'the instant 
A thousand talents to me. 

Flav. I have been bold, 
(For that I knew it the most general way,) 
To them to use your signet, and your name ; 
But they do shake their heads, and I am here 
No richer in return. 

Tim. Is't true ? can it be ? 

Flav. They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, 
That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot 
Do what they would; are sorry — you are honourable, — 
But yet they could have wish'd — they know not — but 
Something hath been amiss — a noble nature 
May catch a wrench — would all were well — 'tis pity — 
And so, intending other serious matters, 
After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions, 
With certain half-caps, and cold-moving nods, 
They froze me into silence. 

Timon of Athens, Act II. Sc, 2. 

'Ett' o>(/)€A6ta yjx!>iA€Voi aXXrjXois, ael rov ttXzlovos 
hiovrai, koX tXarrov ex etz; oiovrai tov irpoo-rJKOPTos, 


vovctlv, a£iot ovres. Eth. VIII. 13. 

EvbidXvTOi brj al ToiavTai (piXCai do~L, /X7j hia[i£v6v< 


T(s>v avrStv 6/xotW kav yap ^kIti ^Seis r) x/^crt/xot 
coat, TravovTdL (J)l\ovvt€$* to be xP^Wm 02 ' °v bia\xevei, 
dAA' aXkore yiyverai akko. ' knoXyQevros ovv hi o 
(J)l\ol rjcrav, btakverat ical rj (f)L\ia, &>s ovcrr]? tt}s (friXtas 
vpbs ittiva. Eth. VIII. 3. 

Pro. Come on; 

Well visit Caliban, my slave, who never 
Yields us kind answer. 

Mira. 'Tis a villain, Sir, 

I do not love to look on. 

Pro. But, as 'tis, 
We cannot miss him : he does make our fire, 
Fetch in our wood ; and serves in offices 
That profit us. 

Enter Calihan. 

Cal. I must eat my dinner. 

This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, 
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam' st first, 
Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me ; would'st 

give me 
Water with berries in't; and teach me how 
To name the bigger light, and how the less, 
That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, 
And show'd thee all the qualities of the isle, 
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile; 
Curs'd be I that I did so !— All the charms 
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you ! 
For I am all the subjects that you have, 
Which first was mine own king : and here you sty me 



In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me 
The rest of the island. 

Pro. Abhorred slave ; 
Which any print of goodness will not take., 
Being capable of all ill ! I pitied thee, 
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour 
One thing or other : when thou didst not, savage, 
Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like 
A thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes 
With words that made them known : but thy vile race, 
Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good na- 
Could not abide to be with ; therefore wast thou 
Deservedly confin'd into this rock, 
Who hadst deserved more than a prison. 

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't 
Is, I know how to curse : the red plague rid you, 
For learning me your language ! 

Pro. Hag-seed, hence ! 
Fetch us in fuel ; and be quick, thou wert best, 
To answer other business. Shrug' st thou, malice ? 
If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly 
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps, 
Fill all thy bones with aches ; make thee roar, 
That beasts shall tremble at thy din. 

Tempest, Act I. Sc. 2 

'Etc' oxpeXeta yjpd>\x€Voi aWrjXois, atl rov TtXelovos 
biovrcu, koX zXolttov e'x 6 ^ oiovrai tov irpoo-rjKOVTos, 


/cat fjL€fJL(f)OVTaL on ovx ocrmv hiovrai, to(tovto)V Tvyya- 
vovaiVy aftot ovres. Eth. VIII. IS. 

Ot bvvdfji€V0L ahiKeiv ctet [$o/3epot] rots bwapLtvois 
abiK€icr6aL' a>s yap iiit to tto\v abiKovcriv ol av6po)7roi, 
OTCLV bvvtoVTcu. Hhet. II. 5. 8. 

K. Rich. Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal 
The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne, 
The time shall not be many hours of age 
More than it is, ere foul sin, gathering head, 
Shall break into corruption : thou shalt think, 
Though he divide the realm, and give thee half, 
It is too little, helping him to all ; 
And he shall think, that thou, which know'st the way 
To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again, 
Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way 
To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. 
The love of wicked friends converts to fear. 

Richard II. Act V. Sc. 1. 

1 ov yap V7T0 (fiikov, ovbt bC avrb tovto bptovros* 

Kad&TT€p ovv kiil prjTols €V€py€Tr]divTa biaXvriov. 

Eth. VIII. 13. 

Oph. My lord, I have remembrances of yours, 
That I have longed long to re-deliver ; 
I pray you, now receive them. 

Ham. No, not I ; 
I never gave you aught. 

Oph. My honour'd lord, you know right well, you 



And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed 
As made the things more rich : their perfume lost, 
Take these again, for to the noble mind 
Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. 
There, my lord. Hamlet^ Act III. Sc. 1. 


^Ap\rj — rov ipqv f) bta rrjs ctyecos rjbovrj' pj] yap 
7Tpor](T0€h rfj ibiq ovdeh ipq' 6 be \aipcav to elbet ovOev 
fxaXkov ipq, dAA. 5 otclv /cat anovra iro6r\ kcll t7]s irapov- 
<r(as em^jutet. Eth. IX. 5. 

Fer. My spirits,, as in a dream,, are all bound up. 
My father's loss,, the weakness which I feel, 
The wreck of all my friends,, or this man's threats,, 
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,, 
Might I but through my prison once a day 
Behold this maid : all corners else o'the earth 
Let liberty make use of; space enough 
Have I in such a prison. Tempest, Act I. Sc. 2. 

Jul. Wilt thou begone ? it is not yet near day : 
It was the nightingale, and not the lark, 
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear ; 
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate -tree : 
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. 

Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, 
No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks 
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east ; 
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day 
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops ; 
I must be gone and live, or stay and die. 

Jul. Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I : 
c 6 

60 LOVE. 

It is some meteor that the sun exhales, 
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, 
And light thee on thy way to Mantua : 
Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone. 

Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, begone, away; 
It is the lark that sings so out of tune, 
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps. 

Romeo and Juliet, Act III. Sc. 5. 

Bianca. What ! keep a week away ? seven days and 
nights ? 
Eight score eight hours ? and lovers' absent hours, 
More tedious than the dial eight score times ? 
O, weary reckoning ! Othello, Act III. Sc. 4. 

Fri. This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. 

Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy ; heaven is here, 
Where Juliet lives ; and every cat, and dog, 
And little mouse, every unworthy thing, 
Live here in heaven, and may look on her, 
But Romeo may not. — 

Romeo and Juliet, Act III. Sc. 3. 

Jul. A thousand times good night ! [Exit.] 

Rom. A thousand times the worse to want thy light. — 

Love goes towards love, as schoolboys from their books; 

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. 

[Retiring slowly.'] 

LOVE. 61 

Re-enter Juliet, above. 

Jul. Hist ! Romeo,, hist ! — O, for a falconer's voice 
To lure this tassel-gentle back again ! 
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud ; 
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, 
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine 
With repetition of my Romeo's name. 

Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name : 
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, 
Like softest music to attending ears ! 

Jul. Romeo ! 

Rom. My sweet ! 

Romeo and Juliet, Act II. Sc. 2. 

Ol 8' evvoi ovdtv fxakXov tyikovcrv fiovXovTai yap 
\iovov rayada, oh dcriv tvvor orv[j,TTpa£aL€V 8' ovOev 
av y ov$ oyXriQtitv virep avr&v. Eth. IX. 5. 

Fer. There be some sports are painful; but their 
Delight in them sets off : some kinds of baseness 
Are nobly undergone ; and most poor matters 
Point to rich ends. This my mean task would be 
As heavy to me, as 'tis odious ; but 
The mistress, which I serve, quickens what's dead, 
And makes my labours pleasures : O, she is 
Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed ; 
And he's composed of harshness. I must remove 
Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up, 
Upon a sore injunction : my sweet mistress 

62 LOVE. 

Weeps when she sees me work ; and says, such baseness 
Had ne'er like executor. I forget : 
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours ; 
Most busy-less, when I do it. 

Tempest, Act III. Sc. 1. 


v EAeos 7T€pl top ava£i6v kcrri hvo-Tvyovvra. 

Poet. §. 25. 

Macb. Besides,, this Duncan 

Hath borne his faculties so meek,, hath been 
So clear in his great office, that his virtues 
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against 
The deep damnation of his taking off : 
And pity, like a naked new-born babe, 
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, hors'd 
Upon the sightless couriers of the air, 
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye. 

Macbeth, Act I. Sc. f. 


avra crviifiefiiqKOTa f) aira, fj t&v clvtov* fj ikirCcraL 
yeviaOat fj avT&, fj t&v civtov. Rhet. II. 8. 7. 

Ari. Your charm so strongly works them, 
That if you now beheld them, your affections 
Would become tender. 

Pro. Dost thou think so, spirit ? 

Ari. Mine would, Sir, were I human. 

Pro. And mine shall. 
Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling 
Of their afflictions ? and shall not myself, 

64 PITY. 

One of their kind, that relish all as sharply, 
Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art ? 

Tempest, Act V. Sc. 1. 

Paris. I know what 'tis to love ; 
And would, as I shall pity, I could help ! — 

Troilus and Cressida, Act IV. Sc. 3. 

Esc. Alas ! this gentleman 

Whom I would save, had a most noble father. 
Let but your honour know, 
(Whom I believe to be most straight in virtue,) 
That, in the working of your own affections, 
Had time coher'd with place, or place with wishing, 
Or that the resolute acting of your blood 
Could have attain'd the effect of your own purpose, 
Whether you had not sometime in your life 
Err'd in this point which now you censure him, 
And pulTd the law upon you. 

Measure for Measure, Act II. Sc. 1. 

Clown. This same skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the 
king's jester. 

Ham. This ? \Tahes the skulL~\ 

Clown. E'en that. 

Ham. Alas ! poor Yorick ! — I knew him, Horatio ; 
a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy : he 
hath borne me on his back a thousand times ; and now, 
how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises 
at it. Here hung those lips, that I have kissed I know 

PITY. 65 

not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gam- 
bols ? your songs ? your flashes of merriment, that 
were wont to set the table on a roar ? Not one now, to 
mock your own grinning ? quite chap-fallen ? Now get 
you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an 
inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her 
laugh at that. — Pry'thee, Horatio, tell me one thing. 

Hor. What's that, my lord ? 

Ham. Dost thou think Alexander looked o'this 
fashion i'the earth ? 

Hor. E'en so. 

Ham. And smelt so ? pah ! [Throws down the skull.~\ 

Hor. E'en so, my lord. 

Ham. To what base uses we may return, Horatio ! 

Hamlet, Act V. Sc. 1. 

Glo. Now, good sir, what are you ? 

Edg. A most poor man, made tame by fortune's blows; 
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, 
Am pregnant to good pity. 

King Lear, Act IV. Sc. 6. 

'EXeovo-LV — ot re TteTrovOores rjbr], kcll hicmefavyo- 
res. Rhet. II. 8. 4. 

Lear. Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, 
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, 
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides, 
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you 
From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en 

66 PITY. 

Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; 
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel ; 
That thou may'st shake the superflux to them, 
And shew the heav'ns more just. 

King Lear, Act III. Sc. 

'EAeowti> — oh VTrapxpvcrL yovels, rj t£kvcl, rj yvvai- 
K€5. Rhet. II. 8. 5. 

Ovbe brj el to vfiptv irepl Tralbas kcll yvvaiKa fyofiel- 
tcll — betXos eo-TLV. Eth. III. 6. 

Rosse. Your castle is surprised : your wife, and 
Savagely slaughtered : to relate the manner, 
Were, on the quarry of these murder' d deer, 
To add the death of you. 

Mal. Merciful heaven! — 
What, man ! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows ; 
Give sorrow words : the grief, that does not speak, 
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break. 

Macd. My children too ? 

Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all 
That could be found. 

Macd. And I must be from thence ! 
My wife kill'd too ? 

Rosse. I have said. 

Mal. Be comforted : 
Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge, 
To cure this deadly grief. 

Macd. He has no children. — All my pretty ones ? 

PITY. 67 

Did you say, all?— O, hell-kite !— All? 
What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam, 
At one fell swoop ? 

Mal. Dispute it like a man. 

Macd. I shall do so ; 
But I must also feel it as a man : 
I cannot but remember such things were, 
That were most precious to me. 

Macbeth, Act IV. Sc. 3. 

'EAeoim — iav olcovrac tlvcls €ivcu rcov eTTLeLK&v. 

Rhet. II. 8. 7. 

Mir a. O, I have suffer'd 

With those that I saw suffer ! a brave vessel, 
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her, 
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock 
Against my very heart ! Poor souls ! they perish'd, 
Had I been any god of power, I would 
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er 
It should the good ship so have swallow* d, and 
The freighting souls within her. 

Tempest, Act I. Sc. 2. 

— 6 yap [xrjbiva olofievos, iravras ot^o-erat a^'iovs 
elvai kclkov. Rhet. II. 8. 7. 

Timon. There's nothing level in our cursed natures, 
But direct villainy. Therefore, be abhorr'd 
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men ! 

68 PITY. 

His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains ! 
Destruction fang mankind ! — 

Timon of Athens, Act IV. Sc. 3. 

Mrjre [iktovcrtv] iv avhpdas 7ra0€L ovres' olov iv 
opyfj § Odfifa. Rhet. II. 8. 6. 

Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli, 
At a poor man's house ; he us'd me kindly : 
He cried to me ; I saw him prisoner ; 
But then Aundius was within my view, 
And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity : I request you 
To give my poor host freedom. 

Coriolanus, Act I. Sc. 9. 

Comin. I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye 
Red as 'twould burn Rome ; and his injury 
The jailor to his pity. 

Coriolanus, Act V. Sc. 1 . 

Mtjt av QopovpevoL a^obpa' ov yap kktovviv ol 

€K7T€7T\7]yixivOL bth TO CIVOU TTp6$ T(3 oIk€L(0 7Ta0€L. 

Rhet. II. 8. 6. 

Alb. This judgment of the heavens, that makes us 
Touches us not with pity. 

King Lear, Act V. Sc. 3. 

PITY. 69 

"Oca T&V \VTTTipG>V KCLL dbwrjp&V (frOapTLKCL, 7TaVTCL 

eAeetz>a* /cat Sera avcuptTLKa* — /cat to, SOev TTpoafJKev 
ayaOov tl Trpagai, kclkov tl avpLfifivaL [eAeetuoV.] 

Rhet. II. 8. 8, 11. 

Ghost. Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand, 
Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatched : 
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, 
UnhouseFd, disappointed, unaneFd ; 
No reck'ning made, but sent to my account 
With all my imperfections on my head : 
O, horrible ! O, horrible ! most horrible ! 
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not. 

Hamlet, Act I. Sc. 5. 

'Oca t&v XvTrrjp&v kcll 6hvvr]pG)V (pdaprtKa, Travra 
ZketLva' cart 8e obvvrjpa [lev kcll (f>6apTLKa OavaroL kcll 
at/ctat, kcll (rtopLCLTtoV /ca/ccocrets, /cat yfjpas, /cat zwot, /cat 
rpofyris eVSeta. Rhet. II. 8. 8 5 9. 

Cor. Had you not been their father, these white 
Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face 
To be exposed against the warring winds ? 
To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder ? 
In the most terrible and nimble stroke 
Of quick, cross lightning ? to watch, (poor perdu !) 
With this thine helm ? Mine enemy's dog, 
Though he had bit me, should have stood that night 
Against my fire ; and wast thou fain, poor father, 
To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn, 

70 PITY. 

In short and musty straw ? Alack, alack ! 
'Tis wonder, that thy life and wits at once 
Had not concluded all. 

King Lear, Act IV. Sc. 7- 

Othello. Her father lov'd me ; oft invited me ; 

Still questioned me the story of my life, 

From year to year ; the battles, sieges, fortunes, 

That I have pass'd. 

I ran it through, even from my boyish days, 

To the very moment that he bade me tell it. 

Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances, 

Of moving accidents by flood and field ; 

Of hair-breadth scapes i'the imminent deadly breach ; 

Of being taken by the insolent foe, 

And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence, 

And portance in my travel's history : 

Wherein of antres vast, and deserts idle, 

Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch 

It was my hint to speak, such was the process ; 
And of the Cannibals that each other eat, 
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads 
Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear, 
Would Desdemona seriously incline : 
But still the house affairs would draw her thence ; 
Which ever as she could with haste despatch, 
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear 
Devour up my discourse : which I observing, 
Took once a pliant hour ; and found good means 
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart, 
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, 

PITY. 71 

Whereof by parcels she had something heard, 

But not intentively : I did consent ; 

And often did beguile her of her tears, 

When I did speak of some distressful stroke, 

That my youth sufFer'd. My story being done, 

She gave me for my pains a world of sighs : 

She swore, — In faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing 

strange ; 
'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful : 
She wish'd she had not heard it ; yet she wish'd 
That heaven had made her such a man : she thank' d me; 
And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, 
I should but teach him how to tell my story, 
And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I spake : 
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd ; 
And I lov'd her, that she did pity them. 
This only is the witchcraft I have us'd ; 
Here comes the lady, let her witness it. 

Othello, Act I. Sc. 3. 

T6 rj [xr]bev yeyevrjcrdcu ayaObv, f) yevo\xzv<j*v /xr) et- 
vai cLTTokavo-tv — eAeetz/oV. Rhet. II. 8. 11. 

Helena. What though I be not so in grace as you, 
So hung upon with love, so fortunate ; 
But miserable most, to love unlov'd ? 
This you should pity, rather than despise. 

Mids. Night's Dream, Act III. Sc. 2. 

72 PITY. 

'EAeetrorepa — kcu tcl crrjiJLe'ia, kcll tcls 7rpaf as* olov, * 
ecrflrj'Tds' re tcozj tt€ttov86tg)V, kcu o<ra roiavra. 

Rhet. IT. 8. 16. I T 

Queen. Your sister's drown' d, Laertes. 

Laert. Drown'd ! O, where ? 

Queen. There is a willow grows ascant the brook, 
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream ; 
Therewith fantastic garlands did she make 
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples ; 
There on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds 
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke ; 
When down her weedy trophies, and herself, 
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide ; 
And, mermaid-like, a while they bore her up : 
Which time, she chaunted snatches of old tunes ; 
As one incapable of her own distress, 
Or like a creature native and indu'd 
Unto that element : but long it could not be, 
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, 
PulFd the poor wretch from her melodious lay 
To muddy death. Hamlet, Act IV. Sc. 7- 

Kat Xoyovs t&v kv r(3 irdOet ovtmv, olov 17817 TeXev- 
TtoVTvv. Rhet. II. 8. 16. 

Exe. He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand, 
And, with a feeble gripe, says, — Ci Dear my lord, 
Commend my service to my sovereign." 
So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck 
He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips ; 

PITY. 73 

And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd 

A testament of noble-ending love. 

The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd 

Those waters from me, which I would have stopp'd ; 

But I had not so much of man in me, 

But all my mother came into mine eyes, 

And gave me up to tears. 

K. Hen. I blame you not ; 
For, hearing this, I must perforce compound 
With mistful eyes, or they will issue too. 

K. Henry V. Act IV. Sc. 6. 

MaAiora to <ntovhaiovs €tvat iv toIs tolovtols kcli- 
pols [scil. ev r(3 irdOei] ovras, iXeetvov. 

Rhet. II. 8. 16. 

York. Men's eyes 

Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save him ; 
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home : 
But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; 
Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, — 
His face still combating with tears and smiles, 
The badges of his grief and patience, — 
That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd 
The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, 
And barbarism itself have pitied him. 

K. Richard II. Act V. Sc. 2. 

Rhet. II. 8. 10, 11, 16. 
Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 

74 PITY. 

You all do know this mantle : I remember 

The first time ever Caesar put it on; 

'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent ; 

That day he overcame the Nervii : — 

Look ! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through : 

See, what a rent the envious Casca made : 

Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd ; 

And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, 

Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it ; 

As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd 

If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no ; 

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel : 

Judge, O ye gods, how dearly Caesar lov'd him ! 

This was the most unkindest cut of all : 

For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, 

Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, 

Quite vanquish' d him : then burst his mighty heart ; 

And, in his mantle muffling up his face, 

Even at the base of Pompey's statue, 

Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell ! 

Julius Cjesar, Act III. Sc. 2 

* ) 


[Aloyj)bv] — to [at] ^or]ddv hvva\izvov els xPVf xaTa » 
rj rJTTov fiorjOdv. Rhet. II. 6. 6. 

2 Lord. My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick 
of shame, that, when your lordship this other day sent 
to me, I was so unfortunate a beggar. 

Timon. Think not on't, Sir. 

2 Lord. If you had sent but two hours before, — 

Timon. Let it not cumber your better remembrance. 
Timon of Athens, Act III. Sc. 6. 

Kal bav€L(e(T0ai 9 ore §o'£et alreiv. 

Rhet. II. 6. 7. 

Luc. I know, his lordship is but merry with me ; 
He cannot want fifty-five hundred talents. 

Ser. But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. 
If his occasion were not virtuous, 
I should not urge it half so faithfully. 

Luc. What a wicked beast was I, to disfurnish my- 
self against such a good time, when I might have 
shewn myself honourable ! how unluckily it happened, 
that I should purchase the day before for a little part, 
and undo a great deal of honour ! — Servilius, now be- 
fore the gods, I am not able to do't ; the more beast, I 
say : — I was sending to use lord Timon myself, these 

76 SHAME. 

gentlemen can witness ; but I would not, for the wealth 
of Athens, I had done it now. Commend me bounti- 
fully to his good lordship ; and I hope his honour will 
conceive the fairest of me, because I have no power to 
be kind : And tell him this from me, I count it one of 
my greatest afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such 
an honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you 
befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him ? 
Timon of Athens, Act III. Sc. 2. 

Rhet. II. 6. 11. 

Agam. This Trojan scorns us ; or the men of Troy 
Are ceremonious courtiers. 

^Ene. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd, 
As bending angels ; that's their fame in peace : 
But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls, 
Good arms, strong joints, true swords ; and, Jove's ac 

Nothing so full of heart. But peace, ^neas, 
Peace, Trojan ; lay thy finger on thy lips ! 
The worthiness of praise distains his worth, 
If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act I. Sc. 3. 

Agam. Whatever praises itself but in the deed, de 
vours the deed in the praise. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act II. Sc. 3.j 

SHAME. 77 

3 kvayKr\, — aloyyveo-O ai — iirl e/caoTT/? tG>v rov rjOovs 
kclki&v ra €pya, /cat ra o-^/xcta, /cat ra o/xoia* aloyjta 
yap /cat al(ryyvTr)\a. Rhet. II. 6. 11. 

Ham. O shame ! where is thy blush ? Rebellious hell, 
If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, 
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, 
And melt in her own fire : proclaim no shame, 
When the compulsive ardour gives the charge ; 
Since frost itself as actively doth burn, 
And reason panders will. 

Queen. O Hamlet, speak no more : 
Thou turnst mine eyes into my very soul ; 
And there I see such black and grained spots, 
As will not leave their tinct. 

Ham. Nay, but to live 
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed ; 
Stew'd in corruption ; honeying, and making love 
Over the nasty stye ; — 

Queen. O, speak to me no more ; 
These words like daggers enter in mine ears : 
No more, sweet Hamlet. 

Ham. A murderer, and a villain : 

A slave, that is not twentieth part the tythe 

Of your precedent lord : — a vice of kings : — 

A cutpurse of the empire and the rule ; 

That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, 

And put it in his pocket ! 

Queen. No more. „ » . TTT A 

^ Hamlet, Act III. Sc. 4. 


78 SHAME. 

'kvayKK], tovtovs aloyyvtcrQai, &v\6yov e^t' koyov 
be 6^66 t&v 6avfjLa(6vT(i>v. Rhet. II. 6. 14. 

Macb. We will proceed no further in this business : 
He hath honour' d me of late ; and I have bought 
Golden opinions from all sorts of people, 
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, 
Not cast aside so soon. 

Macbeth,, Act I. Sc. 7- 


Qofiepol — ol rjbtKrifjLevoL, 7) vo\xi(ovres ahiKziaQac ael 

yap TTjpOVO-L KCLLpOV. E.HET. II. 5. 8. 

King. I like him not ; nor stands it safe with us,, 
To let his madness range. Therefore, prepare you ; 
I your commission will forthwith despatch, 
And he to England shall along with you : 
The terms of our estate may not endure 
Hazard so near us, as doth hourly grow 
Out of his lunes. 

Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage ; 
For we will fetters put upon this fear, 
Which now goes too free-footed. 

Hamlet, Act III. Sc. 3. 

4>o/3epoi — ol t&v avr&v avraytovicrTal, ocra fxrj ivbe- 
\erat oifxa vnapxtiv a^olv. Rhet. II. 5. 8. 

T<2z/ avrntaktov [<pof3epoT] ovx °& o^vOvfJiOL — dAX' — 
ol TravovpyoL. Ib. II. 5. 11. 

Macb. Our fears in Banquo 

Stick deep ; and in his royalty of nature 
Reigns that, which would be fear'd: 'Tis much he 
dares ; 


80 FEAR. 

And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, 

He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour 

To act in safety. There is none but he, 

Whose being I do fear : and, under him, 

My genius is rebuk'd ; as, it is said, 

Marc Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters, 

When first they put the name of king upon me, 

And bade them speak to him ; then, prophet-like, 

They haiFd him father to a line of kings : 

Upon my head they plac'd a fruitless crown, 

And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, 

Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, 

No son of mine succeeding. If it be so, 

For Banquo's issue have I fill'd my mind ; 

For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd ; 

Put rancours in the vessel of my peace 

Only for them ; and mine eternal jewel 

Given to the common enemy of man, 

To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings ! 

Macbeth, Act III. Sc. 1. 

T&v avTLTTaXcov [$o/3e/)ot] ov^ ol 6£v6v[jlol kcll nap- 
prjo-iacrTLKol, aAA' ol irpqoL kcll tlptoves kcll iravovpyoL. 

Rhet. 11.5. 11. 

King. Last, and as much containing as all these. 
Her brother is in secret come from France : 
Feeds on the wonder, keeps himself in clouds, 
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear 
With pestilent speeches of his father's death ; 
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd, 
Will nothing stick our person to arraign 

PEAR. 81 

In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,, 
Like to a murd'rous piece, in many places 
Gives me superfluous death ! 

Hamlet, Act IV. Sc. 5. 

Antony. Fear him not, Caesar, he's not dangerous ; 
He is a noble Roman, and well given. 

Cjesar. 'Would he were fatter: — but I fear him not: 
Yet if my name were liable to fear, 
I do not know the man I should avoid 
So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much ; 
He is a great observer, and he looks 
Quite through the deeds of men : he loves no plays 
As thou dost, Antony ; he hears no music : 
Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort, 
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn' d his spirit 
That could be mov'd to smile at any thing. 
Such men as he be never at heart's ease, 
Whiles they behold a greater than themselves ; 
And therefore are they very dangerous. 

Julius Caesar, Act I. Sc. 2. 

Ot/re [<j)of3ovvTaL] ol ijbrj 7T€TTov0ivat ttclvtcl vofxiCovres 
to, btLva, kcu airexjruyiJLivoi irpbs to fxikkov, &(nrep ol 
aTTOTVfjLTraviCoiJLevoi ijbrj. Rhet. II. 5. 14. 

2 Murderer. I am one, my liege, 

So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, 
That I would set my life on any chance, 
To mend it, or be rid on't. Macb. Act III. Sc. 1. 


82 FEAR. 

Lear. Blow,, winds, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! 
You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout 
'Till you have drench' d our steeples, drown' d the cocks ! 
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, 
Vaunt couriers to oak-clearing thunderbolts, 
Singe my white head ! And thou, all shaking thunder, 
Strike flat the thick rotundity o'the world. 

King Lear, Act III. Sc. 2. 

Kent. Who's here, besides foul weather ? 

Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly. 

Kent. I know you. Where's the king ? 

Gent. Contending with the fretful element : 
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, 
Or swell the curved waters 'bove the main, 
That things might change, or cease : tears his white hair ; 
Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, 
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of: 
Strives in his little world of man to outscorn 
The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. 
This night, wherein the cub- drawn bear would couch, 
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf 
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, 
And bids what will take all. 

King Lear, Act III. Sc. 1. 

Apothecary. Such mortal drugs I have ; but Man- 
tua's law 
Is death, to any one that utters them. 

Romeo. Art thou so base, and full of wretchedness, 

FEAR. 83 

And fear'st to die ? famine is in thy cheeks,, 
Need and oppression starvetu in thine eyes, 
Upon thy back hangs ragged misery, 
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law : 
The world affords no law to make thee rich ; 
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. 

Romeo and Juliet, Act V. Sc. 1. 

Edgar. To be worst, 

The lowest, and most dejected thing of fortune, 
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear : 
The lamentable change is from the best ; 
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then, 
Thou unsubstantial air, that I embrace ! 
The wretch, that thou hast blown unto the worst, 
Owes nothing to thy blasts ! 

King Lear, Act IV. Sc. 1. 


*0 €vbai[JL(s)V <X66 Tj /XaAiOTa TTCLVTCOV, TTpagtl Kol 0€O> - 

prj(T€L tcl Kar aperrjv, kcll tcls rvyas otcret KaAAiora 
kcll Trdvrrj tt&vtcos e/xjixeXwj oy, co? dyaObs a\r]8tos koi 
TtTpaytovos avev \jroyov 'Ez> tovtols biaXdpi- 

TT€L TO KaXbv, €7T€ibaV <p€pTj TL$ €VKok<t)S TToWcLS KOLL 

jjL€ya\as arvyjias, [xtj 5V avakyrjcriav, ak\a yevvdbas 
cbv kcu jjL€ya\6\lrvxp$. Eth. 1. 10. 

Agam. In fortune's love : for then, the bold and 
The wise and fool, the artist and unread, 
The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin : 
But, in the wind and tempest of her frown, 
Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, 
Puffing at all, winnows the light away ; 
And what hath mass, or matter, by itself 
Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act I. Sc. 3 

Coriolanus. Nay, mother, 

Where is your ancient courage ? you were us'd 
To say, extremity was the trier of spirits ; 
That common chances common men could bear ; 
That when the sea was calm, all boats alike 
Show'd mastership in floating : fortune's blows, 
When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves 
A noble cunning. Coriolanus, Act IV. Sc. 1. 


To (j)Ofi€pbv OV TTCLCTL fX€V TO CLVTO* \£yOfJ,€V 8e TL KCU 

ixovn. Eth. III. 7. 

Macb. I dare do all that may become a man ; 
Who dares do more, is none. 

Macbeth, Act I. Sc. 7- 

Macb. What man dare, I dare : 

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, 
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger, 
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves 
Shall never tremble : Or be alive again, 
And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; 
If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me 
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow ! 

Macbeth, Act III. Sc. 4. 

Cass. For my part, I have walk'd about the streets, 
Submitting me unto the perilous night ; 
And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, 
Have bar'd my bosom to the thunder-stone : 
And, when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open 
The breast of heaven, I did present myself 
Even in the aim and very flash of it. 

Casca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the 
heavens ? 
It is the part of men to fear and tremble, 
When the most mighty gods, by tokens, send 
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. 

Julius CiESAR, Act I. Sc. 3. 


Kent. Alas, sir, are you here ? things that love 
Love not such nights as these ; the wrathful skies 
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark, 
And make them keep their caves : since I was man, 
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, 
Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never 
Remember to have heard ; man's nature cannot carry 
The affliction, nor the fear. 

King Lear, Act III. Sc. 3. 

Ac? 8' ov 8V aydyKrjv avbpehv elvai, <xaa' otl ko\6v. 

Eth. III. 8. 

Fal. Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If 
he do come in my way, so : if he do not, if I come in 
his, willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like 
not such grinning honour as sir Walter hath : give me 
life : which if I can save, so ; if not, honour comes un- 
look'd for, and there's an end. 

Part I. K. Henry IV. Act V. Sc. 3, 

'Audpeibs — 6 Trept rbv koXov O&vcltov abtrjs, kcu 6Va 


Kara tioXzixov — 'O 8e r<3 <£o/3etcr0afc vTrepfi&Xktov, 8a- 
Aos. — bvcreX-TTis 877 tls 6 8eiAoV navra yap <£o/3e?rcu. 

Eth. IIL6. 7. 

Fal. I would it were bed time, Hal, and all well. 


Well,, tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, 
but how if honour prick me off when I come on ; how 
then ? Can honour set to a leg ? No. Or an arm ? 
No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Hon- 
our hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is 
honour ? A word. What is that word, honour ? What 
is that honour ? Air. A trim reckoning ! Who hath 
it ? He that died o' Wednesday. — Doth he feel it ? No. 
Doth he hear it ? No. Is it insensible then ? Yea, to 
the dead. But will it not live with the living ? No. 
Why ? Detraction will not suffer it : — therefore 111 
none of it : honour is a mere scutcheon, and so ends 
my catechism. 

Part I. K. Henry IV. Act V. Sc. 2. 

*0 jJLtv davaros kclI tcl rpavpLara Xvirrjpa T& avbpeia) 


aloyjibv, to jjliJ. Eth. III. 9. 

Hector. Hold you still, I say ; 

Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate : 
Life every man holds dear ; but the dear man 
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act V. Sc. 3. 

' AuSpewn §e (fraLVovTcu kclI ol ayvoovvrzs, kcli €L(tlv ov 
TToppca t&v €V€\.7TLb(!)V' x^tpovs 8' 0(7 (p agitopia ovbtv 


zyovcriv e/cetz/ot hi' bib kou fjiivovcC tlvcl \povoV ol 8' 
rjTTaTrjfxivoi, iav yvGxnv otl trepov 77 vTTOTTTevo-ctxn, 
(frevyovo-iv. Eth. III. 8. 

Bard. On, on, on, on, on ! to the breach ! to the 
breach ! 

Nym. Tray thee, corporal,, stay ; the knocks are too 
hot; and,, for mine own part, I have not a case of 
lives : the humour of it is too hot, that is the very 
plain-song of it. 

Pist. The plain-song is most just ; for humours do 
abound ; 
Knocks go and come ; God's vassals drop and die ; 
And sword and shield, 
In bloody field, 
Doth win immortal fame. 
Boy. Would I were in an alehouse in London! I 
would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety. 
Pist. And I : 

If wishes would prevail with me, 
My purpose should not fail with me, 
But thither would I hie. 
Boy. As duly, but not as truly, as bird doth sing on 
bough. King Henry V. Act III. Sc. 2. 

'O a\a((av — TTpocnroLrjTLKbs tQ>v kvhofav, koI fxr\ 
vTTapxpvrtov, kcll pL€i(6vo)V Tj vvapyjEi » . . . 01 bo£r]$ 
X&pw akaCovevo/JLevoi, ra TOiavra 7tpoo"noiovvTai t i(f> 
oh €TT(uvos rj evhcufJLovLcriJLos. Eth. IV. 7. 

P. Hen. What's the matter ? 


Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us here 
have ta'en a thousand pound this morning. 

P. Hen. Where is it, Jack ? Where is it ? 

Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred 
upon poor four of us. 

P. Hen. What,, a hundred, man ? 

Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with 
a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scap'd 
by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the dou- 
blet ; four, through the hose ; my buckler cut through 
and through • my sword hack'd like a hand-saw, ecce 
.rig num. I never dealt better since I was a man; all 
would not do. A plague of all cowards ! — Let them 
speak : if they speak more or less than truth, they are 
villains, and the sons of darkness. 

P. Hen. Speak, sirs ; how was it ? 

Gads. We four set upon some dozen, 

Fal. Sixteen, at least, my lord. 

Gads. And bound them. 

Peto. No, no, they were not bound. 

Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of 
them ; or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. 

Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh 
men set upon us. — 

Fal. And unbound the rest, and then came in the 

P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all? 

Fal. All? I know not what ye call, all; but if I 
fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish : 
if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old 
Jack, then I am no two-legged creature. 

Poins. Pray God, you have not murdered some of 


Fal. Nay, that's past praying for : for I have pep- 
pered two of them : two, I am sure, I have paid ; two 
rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, — if I 
tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou 
knowest my old ward ; — here I lay, and thus I bore 
my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me, — 

P. Hen. What, four ? thou said'st but two, even 

Fal. Four, Hal ; I told thee four. 

Poins. Ay, ay, he said four. 

Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust 
at me. I made me no more ado, but took all their se- 
ven points in my target, thus. 

P. Hen. Seven ? why there were but four, even now. 

Fal. In buckram. 

Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits. 

Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. 

P. Hen. Pr'ythee, let him alone; we shall have more 

Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal ? 

P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. 

Fal. Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These 
nine in buckram that I told thee of,' 

P. Hen. So, two more already. 

Fal. Their points being broken, 

Poins. Down fell their hose. 

Fal. Began to give me ground : But I followed me 
close, came in foot and hand ; and, with a thought, se- 
ven of the eleven I paid. 

P. Hen. O monstrous ! eleven buckram men grown 
out of two ! 


Poins. Mark, Jack. 

P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you 
bound them, and were masters of their wealth. — Mark 
now, how plain a tale shall put you down. — Then did 
we two set on you four : and, with a word, out-faced 
you from your prize, and have it ; yea, and can show 
it you here in the house. 

Part I. K. Henry IV. Act II. Sc. 4. 


Ovk ecru [6 /xeyaXo^^o?] \xiKpoKivhvvos ovbe $t- 
XoKivhvvos, 8ia to oXiya Tt^qv' ixeyakoKivbvvos §e, kcu 
otolv KLvbvvevrj, a<p€ibr]s tov j3lov, as ovk a£iov ov irav- 
70)5 (r\v. Eth. IV. 3. 

K. Hen. What's he, that wishes so ? 

My cousin Westmoreland ? — No, my fair cousin : 
If we are mark'd to die, we are enough 
To do our country loss ; and if to live, 
The fewer men, the greater share of honour. 
God's will ! I pray thee, wish not one man more. 
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold : 
Nor care I, who doth feed upon my cost ; 
It yearns me not, if men my garments wear ; 
Such outward things dwell not in my desires : 
But, if it be a sin to covet honour, 
I am the most offending soul alive. 
No, 'faith, my coz, wish not a man from England : 
God's peace ! I would not lose so great an honour, 
As one man more, methinks, would share from me, 
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more : 
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, 
That he, who hath no stomach to this fight, 
Let him depart ; his passport shall be made, 
And crowns for convoy put into his purse : 
We would not die in that man's company, 
That fears his fellowship to die with us. 

K. Henry V. Act IV. Sc. 3. 


Mar. So now the gates are ope : — Now prove good 
seconds : 
Tis for the followers fortune widens them, 
Not for the fliers : mark me, and do the like. 

\_He enters the gate, and is shut in.~] 

1 Sol. Fool-hardiness; not I. 

2 Sol. Nor I. 

3 Sol. See, they 

Have shut him in. [Alarum continues.'] 

All. To the pot, I warrant him. 

Enter Titus Lartius. 

Lart. What is become of Marcius ? 

All. Slain, Sir, doubtless. 

1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, 
With them he enters : who, upon the sudden, 
Clapp'd-to their gates ; he is himself alone, 
To answer all the city. 

Lart. O noble fellow ! 
Who, sensible, outdoes his senseless sword, 
And, when it bows, stands up ! 

Coriolanus, Act I. Sc. 4. 

MeyaXoyf/yxov kcll to fjirjOevbs 8eib"0ai, r\ ixoyis. 

Eth. IV. 4. 

Men. It then remains, 
That you do speak to the people. 

Cor. I do beseech you, 
Let me o'erleap that custom ; for I cannot 
Put on the gown, stand naked, and entreat them 


For my wound's sake, to give their suffrage: please 

That I may pass this doing. 

Coriolanus, Act II. Sc. 2. 

Kai eh ra evn\xa /xt) livai, rj ov 7rp(*)T€vov(nv aAAoi. 

Eth. IV. 3. 

Brutus. I heard him swear, 
Were he to stand for consul, never would he 
Appear i'the market place, nor on him put 
The napless vesture of humility ; 
Nor shewing (as the manner is) his wounds 
To the people, beg their stinking breaths. 

Sic. 'Tis right. 

Bru. It was his word : O, he would miss it, rather 
Than carry it, but by the suit o'the gentry to him, 
And the desire of the nobles. 


[M€ya\o\j/vxov] — [a£X.€LV tt]$ akrjOeias /jlclWov tj ttjs 
bofrs. Eth, IV. 3. 

Coriolanus. Well, I must do't : 

Away, my disposition, and possess me 
Some harlot's spirit ! My throat of war be turn'd, 
Which quired with my drum, into a pipe 
Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice 
That babies lulls asleep ! The smiles of knaves 
Tent in my cheeks ; and school-boys tears take up 


The glasses of my sight ! A beggar's tongue, 

Make motions through my lips ; and my arm'd knees, 

Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his 

That hath received an alms ! — I will not do it : 

Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth, 

And, by my body's action, teach my mind 

A most inherent baseness. 

Coriolanus, Act III. Sc. 2. 

[MeyaXo^xov] — Xiyeiv kclI TTparTtiv (ftavepQs' 
KaTCHfipovqTLKOV yap' btb 7rapprj(na(rTLK6s. 

Eth. IV. 3. 

CjESAR. And you are come in very happy time, 
To bear my greeting to the senators, 
And tell them that I will not come to day : 
Cannot, is false ; and that I dare not, falser ; 
I will not come to day : tell them so, Decius. 

Cal. Say he is sick. 

Cms. Shall Caesar send a lie ? 
Have I in conquest stretched mine arm so far, 
To be afeard to tell gray-beards the truth ? 
Decius, go tell them, Caesar will not come. 

Julius Caesar, Act II. Sc. 2. 

Ovb' av Zt:(uv€tlk6s eort. -p ^ TV ^ 

Volum. (To Coriolanus,) I know, thou hadst rather 


Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf, 
Than flatter him in a bower. 


Men. His nature is too noble for the world : 
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,, 
Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his 

mouth : 
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent ; 
And; being angry, does forget that ever 
He heard the name of death. 


Ovbe fjLvrjcTLKaKos' ov yap fjL€yaXo\j/vxov to bmo\wr\- 
\xovevtiv, aWtos re kcu Kaica* aWh fxaWov irapopqv. 

Eth. IV. 3. 

Volum. Why dost not speak ? 

Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man 
Still to remember wrongs ? 

Coriolanus, Act V. Sc. 3. 

Ovre iva ZircuvfJTcu /xeXet avr&. Eth. IV. 3. 

Men. Nay, keep your place. 

[Coriolanus rises, and offers to go away.~\ 
1 Sen. Sit, Coriolanus : never shame to hear 
What you have nobly done. 


Cor. Your honours' pardon ; 
I had rather have my wounds to heal again,, 
Than hear say how I got them. 

Bru. Sir, I hope 
My words disbench'd you not. 

Cor. No, sir ; yet oft,, 
When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. 
You &ooth'd not, therefore hurt not : but, your people, 
I love them as they weigh. 

Men. Pray now, sit down. 

Cor. I had rather have one scratch my head i'the sun, 
When the alarum were struck, than idly sit 
To hear my nothings monster'd. [Exit Coriolanus.'] 

Coriolanus, Act II. Sc. 2. 

Marc i us. May these same instruments, which you 
Never sound more ! When drums and trumpets shall 
Tthe field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be 
Made all of false-fac'd soothing : when steel grows 
Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made 
An overture for the wars ! No more, I say ; 
For that I have not washed my nose that bled, 
Or foiFd some debile wretch, — which, without note, 
Here's many else have done, — you shout me forth 
In acclamations hyperbolical : 
As if I lov'd my little should be dieted 
In praises sauc'd with lies. 

Coriolanus, Act I. Sc. 9. 


e ixeyakoxj/yxos — ofas K€KTrj(r0(u ixaWov to. Kaka 

Kal &KapTTa T&V KCLpTTlfJitoV K0l totytkllAtoV* CLVT&pKOVS 

yap pakkov. Eth. IV. 3. 

Comin. Our spoils he kick'd at ; 

And look'd upon things precious., as they were 
The common muck o'the world : he covets less 
Than misery itself would give ; rewards 
His deeds with doing them ; and is content 
To spend the time,, to end it. 

Men. He's right noble. 

Coriolanus, Act II. Sc. 2. 


'Ektvdepios €(ttlv 6 Kara tt\v ovcrCav bairav&v, /ecu 
ets a Set* 6 be virepfiaXktov, aaroTos. Eth. IV. 1. 

Flav. {Aside.) What will this come to? 
He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, 
And all out of an empty coffer. — 
Nor will he know his purse ; or yield me this, 
To show him what a beggar his heart is, 
Being of no power to make his wishes good ; 
His promises fly so beyond his state, 
That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes 
For every word ; he is so kind, that he now 
Pays interest for't ; his land's put to their books. 
Well, would I were gently put out of office, 
Before I were forc'd out ! 

Timon of Athens, Act I. Sc. 2. 

01 ttoXXoI r&v a<T(aT(i>v — XtjittlkoI yivovTat, bta to 
fiovkecrOai piev avaktcrKetv, evyjep&s be tovto Troielv pj} 
bvvaarQaC Ta\v yap eitikevnei avrovs tcl VTtapyovra. 
'AvayKa(ovTcu ovv eTepaOev 7ropi{eLV ap,a be koX bta 
to pir]6ev tov kclXov cj)povTi(eLV, okiy&pm kcll iravTodev 
kapftavovo-L' bibovai yap emdvpLovo-c to be tt&s, rj Tto- 
Oev, ovOev avTols biafyepei. Eth. IV. 1. 

E 2 


Tit. I'll show you how to observe a strange event. 
Your lord sends now for money. 

Hor. Most true, he does. 

Tit. And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, 
For which I wait for money. 

Timon of Athens, Act III. Sc. 3. 

Ov pabiov iJL7]bafji60€V XapLfiavovra, ttclctl bibovaL* ra- 
xicas yap e7nA.et7rei fj ovcria tovs bibovras tStcoras. 

Eth. IV. 1. 

Luc. Ser. Ay, but the days are waxed shorter with 
You must consider, that a prodigal course 
Is like the sun's ; but not, like his, recoverable. 
I fear, 

'Tis deepest winter in lord Timon's purse ; 
That is, one may reach deep enough, and yet 
Find little. Timon of Athens, Act III. Sc. 4. 

AtoTrep ovbe iXevdipiot al bocreis avr&v elcnv ov 
yap Kakal, oibe tovtov avrov eW/ca, ovbe o>s §er dAA' 
eviore ovs bet iriveo-Qat, tovtovs ttXovctiovs ttolovo-l, /cat 
toTs pkv [AZTpioLs T<x rjdr], oibev av boitv, rots be ko- 
\agiv, i] riva aXXrjv rjbovrjv 7ropL(ov(n t 7roAAa\ 

Eth. IV. 1, 

Sen. Still in motion 

Of raging waste ? It cannot hold ; it will not. 


If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog, 
And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold : 
If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more 
Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon, 
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight, 
And able horses. No porter at his gate ; 
But rather one that smiles, and still invites 
All that pass by. It cannot hold ; no reason 
Can found his state in safety. 

Timon of Athens, Act II. Sc. 1. 

Ov yap iJLOxOrjpov, ovbe ayzvvovs, to vTrepfiaXktiv 
bibovTa kcll pLrj XapifiavovTa' rjkiOtov 8e. 

Eth. IV. 1. 

Tim. Come, sermon me no further : 
No villainous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart ; 
Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. 

Timon of Athens, Act II. Sc. 2. 



c O ey/cparrjs [roioiVos] olos rjbto-Ocu [irapa rbv Ao- 
yov\ ahXa \rq ayeo-0at. Eth. VII. 9. 

Lady Macb. Art thou afeard 

To be the same in thine own act and valour, 
As thou art in desire ? Would' st thou have that 
Which thou esteem' st the ornament of life, 
And live a coward in thine own esteem ; 
Letting I dare not wait upon I would ? 

Macb. Act I. Sc. 7. 

f/ £l(nr€p oi>§' a<pivTL XiOov, en clvtov bvvarbv avaka- 
fielv ciaa' o/xco? eV avr<2 to fiaXzlv kcll pfyaL* rj yap 
apxj] €7r aired' ovtg) be kclI r(3 a8t/co) kcll t<2 a/coAaoTG) 
*£ apyjl$ l^ v *£v v tolovtols [Mr] yeviaQai' bib £kovt€S 
d(TL' yevofxivots be ovk£tl ef ecrn jut) elvai. 

Eth. III. 5. 

K. Hen. What rein doth hold licentious wickedness. 
When down the hill he holds his fierce career ? 

King Henry V. Act III. Sc. 4. 

El irdarj bo£rj ipLfxeveTLKov irotel tj kyKpareia, tya-vkr], 


olov et /cat rfi xf/^vbel' /cat d TTacrrjs S6£rjs fj d/cpacrta 
kKarariKov, carat to (Tirovhaia aKpacrta. 

Eth. VII. % 

Pand. The better act of purposes mistook 
Is, to mistake again ; tho' indirect, 
Yet indirection thereby grows direct, 
And falsehood falsehood cures ; as fire cools lire, 
Within the scorched veins of one new burn d. 

King John, Act III. Sc. 1 . 

01 8r/ 7re/H Tavra [xprmara, /c. r. A.] 7TAeoz/e/crat x«- 
Pl{ovtcu rat? imOviJLLaLs, /cat 0X00? rot? TraOecri, /cat r<3 
dAo'ya) Trjs \lrvxrjS* Eth. IX. 8. 

K. Hen. How quickly nature falls into revolt, 
When gold becomes her object ! 

Part II. K. Henry IV. Act IV. Sc. 4. 

Timon. What a god's gold, 

That he is worshipped in a baser temple, 
Than where swine feed ! 

'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark, and plough'st the foam; 
Settlest admired reverence in a slave : 
To thee be worship ! and thy saints for aye 
Be crown'd with plagues, that thee alone obey ! 

Timon of Athens, Act V. Sc. 1. 

'AArjfles 8e to 7T€/h tov arisovhaiov , /cat to t&v (j)i\o>v 

E 4 


€V€kcl iroWa TtpaTTeiv kcu ttjs 7raTp[bos, kclv birj virep- 
a7ro0vricrK€LV' Trporjo-tTcu yap kcu yj)r\ixara^ kcu rt/utay, 
kclI oko)9 Ta TreptpLaxriTa dya#a, Trepnroioviitvos kavrti 
to koXov. Eth. IX. 8. 

Isabel. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake 
Lest thou a feverous life should' st entertain, 
And six or seven winters more respect 
Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? 
The sense of death is most in apprehension ; 
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, 
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great 
As when a giant dies. 

Claud. Why give you me this shame ? 
Think you I can a resolution fetch 
From flowery tenderness ? If I must die, 
I will encounter darkness as a bride, 
And hug it in mine arms. 

Isabel. There spake my brother; there my father's 
Did utter forth a voice ! Yes, thou must die : 
Thou art too noble to conserve a life 
In base appliances. 

Measure for Measure, Act III. Sc. 1. 

* A<pT] KCU ytvcns S>V K(ll tcl Xolttcl (&a KOLVtovd* O0€V 

arbpairabtobtLs /cat OrjpLcobtLs <f>aivovTai. Eth. III. 10. 

To oIkSIOV €kA(TTG) Tfj <j)V(T€L, Kp(XTL(TTOV Kdl fjbtOTOV 

eo-0' e^ora)* Kal r<3 avOpdnrco St) 6 fcara tov vovv /3io$, 
dTTep /xaAtora tovto avOpwos. Eth. X. 7. 

Ham. What is a man, 


If his chief good, and market of his time, 

Be but to sleep and feed ? a beast, no more. 

Sure,, He,, that made us with such large discourse, 

Looking before, and after, gave us not 

That capability and godlike reason 

To fast in us unus'd. Hamlet, Act IV. Sc. 4. 

Tlpbs ixkv to fxicrov Zviois aKpois bpLOi6rr]s tls (jxxive- 
Ten, d)S rr\ 6pa(TVTr]TL irpbs tj]V avbpiav, koX TYJ acrcoTia 
TTpbs T7]V ZkevOepLOTTiTa. Eth. II. 8. 

Tri. Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied ; 
And vice sometime's by action dignified. 

Romeo and Juliet, Act II. Sc. 3. 

e 5 


Ot 7Tp€(r(3vT€poi — beikol kcll iravra TTpcxfiofirjTiKoL 

Rhet. II. 13. 7. 

Polonius. It seems,, it is as proper to our age 
To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions, 
As it is common for the younger sort 
To lack discretion. Hamlet, Act II. Sc. 1. 

01 Ovfjiol [t&v TTpeo-fivripcav] oge'is \ikv eiatv, aaOe- 
veh bi. Rhet. II. 13. 12. 

Gon. You see how full of changes his age is; the 
observation we have made of it hath not been little : 
he always loved our sister most ; and with what poor 
judgment he hath now cast her off, appears too grossly. 

Reg. 'Tis the infirmity of his age : yet he hath ever 
but slenderly known himself. 

Gon. The best and soundest of his time hath been but 
rash ; then must we look to receive from his age, not 
alone the imperfections of long engrafted condition, 
but therewithal, the unruly waywardness that infirm 
and choleric years bring with them. 

King Lear, Act I. Sc. 1. 

THE AGED. 107 

01 TTpecrfivrepoL — (Gktl rfj fJLvrnxrj fiakkov, rj rrj eA- 
7rt8f — hiaTzXovvi ra yevofxeva Xiyovres* avapLLfivqcrKo- 
ixzvoi yap rjbovTcu. Rhet. II. 13. 12. 

Hector. Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp 

Nest. I would my arms could match thee in con- 
As they contend with thee in courtesy. 
Hect. I would they could. 
Nest. Ha ! 
By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow. 
Well, welcome, welcome ! I have seen the time. — 

Ulys. I wonder now how yonder city stands, 
When we have here her base and pillar by us. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act IV. Sc. 5. 



01 vioi — OvjmkoI, /cat 6£vdviJLOL, /cat oloi aKokovOeiv 
rf\ opjjifj. Rhet. II. 12. 4. 

Ben. I pray you, good Mercutio, let's retire ; 
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,, 
And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl ; 
For now., these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. 

Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that, when 
he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword 
upon the table, and says, " God send me no need of 
" thee I" and, by the operation of the second cup, draws 
it on the drawer, when, indeed, there is no need 

Ben. Am I like such a fellow ? 

~„ i 

Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should have 
none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou ! 
why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair 
more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou 
wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no 
other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes ; what 
eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel ? 
Thine head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of 
meat. Romeo and Juliet, Act III. Sc. 1. 


Ot vkoi — iravras XPW 70 ^ KaL ^Xriovs vTtokaixfia- 
vovctlv* tt\ yap clvt&v d/ca/aa tovs irikas \xtTpov(riv. 

Rhet. II. 12. 15. 

Desd. O, these men, these men ! — 

Dost thou in conscience think, — tell me, Emilia, — 
That there be women do abuse their husbands 
In such gross kind ? 

Emil. There be some such, no question. 

Desd. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for 
the whole world ! 

I do not think there is any such woman. 

Othello, Act IV. Sc. 3. 

Ot vioi — evikinbes' &<mep yap ol olvwfxevoL, ovtq} 
btddepfjiOL elcnv ot vioi viro ttjs (fivo-em' a\xa 8e /cat §ta 
to pLrjiTG) iroWa ctarorerfx^/ceWt. Kat (Gxn to, ir\e terra 
iknfoi. Rhet. II. 12. 8. 

L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead; 

And what will you do now ? How will you live ? 

Son. As birds do, mother. 

L. Macd. What, with worms and flies ? 

Son. With what I get, I mean ; and so do they. 

L. Macd. Poor bird ! thoud'st never fear the net, nor 
The pit-fall, nor the gin. 

Son. Why should I, mother ? Poor birds they are 
not set for. 
My father is not dead, for all your saying. 


L. Macd. Yes,, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a 

father ? 
Son. Nay,, how will you do for a husband ? 
L. Macd. Why,, I can buy me twenty at any market. 
Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. 
L. Macd. Thou speak'st with all thy wit, and yet 
With wit enough for thee. 

Son. Was my father a traitor, mother ? 
L. Macd. Ay, that he was. 
. Son. What is a traitor ? 

L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies. 

Son. And be all traitors, that do so ? 

L. Macd. Every one that does so, is a traitor, and 

must be hang'd. 
Son. And must they all be hang'd, that swear and lie? 
L. Macd. Every one. 
Son. Who must hang them ? 
L. Macd. Why, the honest men. 
Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools : for there 
are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men, 
and hang up them. 

L. Macd. Now, God help thee, poor monkey ! But 
how wilt thou do for a father ? 

Son. If he were dead, you'd weep for him : if you 
would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly 
have a new father. 

L. Macd. Poor prattler ! how thou talk'st. 

Macbeth, Act IV. Sc. 2. 

Volumnia. Thou shalt no sooner 
March to assault thy country, than to tread, 


(Trust to't, thou shalt not,) on thy mother's womb,, 
That brought thee to this world. 

Vir. Ay, and on mine, 
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name 
Living to time. 

Boy. He shall not tread on me ; 
I'll run away, till I am bigger, but then 111 fight. 

Coriolanus, Act V. Sc. 3. 

'EpcoTi/cot ol veoL' Kara ttclOos yap kclI bi rjbovrjv to 
ttoXv tt}s ip&Tucrjs. Acoirep (fytkovcn, kcll Tafias iravov- 


Eth. VIII. 3. 

Friar. These violent delights have violent ends, 
And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder, 
Which, as they kiss, consume : The sweetest honey 
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, 
And in the taste confounds the appetite : 
Therefore, love moderately ; long love doth so ; 
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. 

Romeo and Juliet, Act II. Sc. 6. 


Ov yap €k bvo larp&v yivtrai Koivoavia, aAA 5 ef la- 
rpov leal yeotpyov, kcu oXoas kripcav, kclI ovk 'lcw clWcl 
tovtovs Set l<ra(T0f]vaL. Eth. V. 5. 

Exc. While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,, 
The advised head defends itself at home : 
For government., though high, and low, and lower, 
Put into parts, doth keep in one concent ; 
Congruing in a full and natural close, 
Like music. 

Cant. True : therefore doth heaven divide 
The state of man in divers functions, 
Setting endeavour in continual motion ; 
To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, 
Obedience : for so work the honey-bees ; 
Creatures, that, by a rule in nature, teach 
The act of order to a peopled kingdom. 
They have a king, and officers of sorts : 
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home ; 
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad ; 
Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, 
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds ; 
Which pillage they with merry march bring home 
To the tent-royal of their emperor : 
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys 
The singing masons building roofs of gold ; 
The civil citizens kneading up the honey ; 
The poor mechanic porters crowding in 


Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate ; 
The sad-eyed justice,, with his surly hum, 
Delivering o'er to executors pale 
The lazy yawning drone. 

King Henry V. Act. I. Sc. 2, 

"Orav kK&Ttpos kavrbv /3ov\r]Tai [#/>X €tz; ] — oratna- 
(ovctlv — c Eavr<3 Hkclcttos fiovkopievos Tavra, rbv neka? 
igeraCei kcu kg)\v€C firj yap Trjpovvrcov, to kolvov clttoK- 
Xvtcll, ^vfjLJ3aLvei ovv avrols <TTa(Tia(eiv, aXkf\kovs jjlzv 
€TiavayKa(ovTar avrovs he firj fiovXopievovs rh biKCua 
TroLelv. Eth. IX. 6. 

Ulys. Take but degree away, untune that string. 
And, hark, what discord follows ! each thing meets 
In mere oppugnancy : The bounded waters 
Should lift up their bosoms higher than the shores, 
And make a sop of all this solid globe : 
Strength should be lord of imbecility, 
And the rude son should strike his father dead : 
Force should be right ; or, rather, right and wrong, 
(Between whose endless jar justice resides,) 
Should lose their names, and so should justice too. 
Then every thing includes itself in power, 
Power into will, will into appetite ; 
And appetite, an universal wolf, 
So doubly seconded with will and power, 
Must make perforce an universal prey, 
And, last, eat up himself. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act I. Sc. 3. 


To (rcdcjypovm (fjv Kal /capreptfcws, ov\ fjbv rot? 7toa- 
aois, aXAcos re Kal ueots. Ato vojjlols 8et TtrayOai tt)v 
Tpcxprjv kclI tcl iTTirrjbevfJiaTa' ovk ecrrat yap XvTrrjpa 
crvvrjOr] yev6p,zva. . . . Kal irepl ravra Seot/xefl' cb vo- 
fjLcav, Kal oAods §77 irepl itavra rbv j3lov ol yap ttoWoI 
avdyKrj fJiaXXov rj Aoya> TitiQapyovvi, Kal (rjixlais, r) rc3 
/caX(3. Eth. X. 9. 

Hector. If this law 

Of nature be corrupted through affection ; 
And that great minds,, of partial indulgence 
To their benumbed wills, resist the same ; 
There is a law in each well-order'd nation, 
To curb those raging appetites that are 
Most disobedient and refractory. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act II. Sc. i 

Ol ttoXXoI avdyKrj piaWov r) Xoyui TrGiOapypvcri, Kal 
(rjjxiais, rj rco /caA<3. Aioirep oiovrai nves rovs vojxoOe- 
Tovvras b^v—a7T€L0ov(n Kal cupvtcrTtpois ovcri, Ko\a- 
(rets re Kal njitopias £mTi6£vai t tovs §' avtarovs oAcos 
tgopfeLv. Eth. X. 9. 

Duke. As fond fathers 

Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch, 
Only to stick it in their children's sight, 
For terror, not to use ; in time the rod 
Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd : so our decrees, 
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead ; 
And liberty plucks justice by the nose ; 


The baby beats the nurse,, and quite athwart 
Goes all decorum. 

Measure for Measure, Act I. Sc. 4. 

'Ei> amacrais tcl t&v apxLTZKTOVLK&v rikr] navTtov 
icrrlv alpercorepa tQ>v vcj) avra* tovtwv yap yapiv 
KqKtiva Stco/cercu. Eth. 1. 1. 

Ulys. They tax our policy, and call it cowardice; 
Count wisdom as no member of the war ; 
Forestall prescience, and esteem no act 
But that of hand : the still and mental parts, — 
That do contrive how many hands shall strike, 
When fitness calls them on ; and know, by measure 
Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight, — 
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity : 
They call this — bed-work, mappery, closet-war : 
So that the ram, that batters down the wall, 
For the great swing and rudeness of his poise, 
They place before his hand that made the engine ; 
Or those, that with the fineness of their souls 
By reason guide his execution. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act I. Sc. 3. 


To dOco-fjiivov axnrep TtecfrvKos rjbrj yiyverai. 

Rhet. 1.11.3. 

Ham. Use almost can change the stamp of nature, 
And either curb the devil, or throw him out 
With wondrous potency. 

Hamlet, Act III. Sc. 4. 

noAAa — kclI t&v (pvcrei firj fjbitois, orav kQi<r6G)(nv 

7]b£m 7T0L0V(TLV, RHET. I. 10. 

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man ! 
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, 
I better brook than nourishing peopled towns : 
Here can I sit alone, unseen of any, 
And, to the nightingale's complaining notes, 
Tune my distresses, and record my woes. 

Two Gent, of Ver. Act V. Sc. 4. 

Ham. Has this fellow no feeling of his business? he 
sings at grave-making. 

Hor. Custom hath made it in him a property of ea- 

Ham. 'Tis e'en so : the hand of little employment 
hath the daintier sense. 

Hamlet, Act V. Sc. ] . 


Tofc €77 tet/ceVt 7riOT€VO/X6^ [MCikkoV KCLl 0CLTTOV. 

Rhet. I. % 4. 

Iago. My Lord, you know I love you. 

Oth. I think thou dost ; 
And — for I know thou art full of love and honesty,, 
And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath— 
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more : 
For such things in a false disloyal knave,, 
Are tricks of custom ; but, in a man that's just, 
They are close denotements, working from the heart, 
That passion cannot rule. 

Othello, Act III. Sc. 3. 


Se /cat tovto (Tv\ifiaivziv Sta rbv \6yov, aXka /ut?) 8ta to 
TrpobebogacrOaL uoiov riva etz>at top Xiyovra. 

Rhet. I. 2. 4. 

Ant. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts, 
I am no orator, as Brutus is : 
But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, 
That love my friend ; and that they know full well 
That gave me public leave to speak of him. 
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, 
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, 
To stir men's blood : I only speak right on ; 


I tell you that,, which you yourselves do know ; 
Shew you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb 

And bid them speak for me : But were I Brutus, 
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony 
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue 
In every wound of Caesar, that should move 
The stones of Rome to mutiny. 

Julius Caesar, Act III. Sc. 2 

UiOavtoTaTOL airb ttjs avrrjs c^wecos ol hv tois tioB 
€(tlv elcri, koX ytijxaivei 6 x^t/xafo/xezw, kclI yaktitaivei 
6 6pyi(6[ji^vos aXrjOwtoTaTa. Poet. §. 30 

Bottom. What is Pyramus ? a lover, or a tyrant ? 
Quince. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for 

Bottom. That will ask some tears in the true pe: 
forming of it : If 
I do it, let the audience look to their eyes ; I will 

Storms, I will condole in some measure. 

Mids. Night's Dream, Act I. Sc. 2 




'Aperr) 8e £(ttI — hvva[xi$ evepyeTLKrj. 

Rhet. I. 9. 4. 

v Ecm ayaOov /cat rrjs dper^s to evepyzTzlv. 

Eth. IX. 9. 

Duke. Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do ; 
Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues 
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike 
As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd, 
But to fine issues : nor nature never lends 
The smallest scruple of her excellence, 
But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines 
Herself the glory of a creditor, 
Both thanks and use. 

Measure for Measure, Act I. Sc. 2. 

To 67net/ces, hiKaiov tivos ov, fiiknov kari hUaiov. 

Eth. 5. 10. 

Portia. The quality of mercy is not strain' d ; 
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless' d ; 


It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : 

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes 

The throned monarch better than his crown : 

His sceptre shews the force of temporal power, 

The attribute to awe and majesty, 

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; 

But mercy is above this sceptred sway, 

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 

It is an attribute to God himself; 

And earthly power doth then shew likest Gods, 

When mercy seasons justice. 

Merchant of Venice, Act IV. Sc. 

p€(TLV (TK07t€lV) £tTL€LK€$. RhET. I. 13. 17. 

Hippol. He says, they can do nothing in this kind. 

Theseus. The kinder we, to give them thanks for 
Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake : 
And what poor duty cannot do, 
Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. 
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed 
To greet me with premeditated welcomes ; 
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale, 
Make periods in the midst of sentences, 
Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears, 
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off, 
Not paying me a welcome : Trust me, sweet, 
Out of this silence, yet, I pick'd a welcome ; 
And in the modesty of fearful duty 


I read as much,, as from the rattling tongue 
Of saucy and audacious eloquence. 

Mids. Night's Dream, Act V. Sc. 1. 

K. Hen. Give me thy glove, soldier ; Look, here is 
the fellow of it. Twas I, indeed, thou promised'st to 
strike ; and thou hast given me most bitter terms. 

Flu. An please your majesty, let his neck answer 
for it, if there is any martial law in the 'orld. 

K. Hen. How canst thou make me satisfaction ? 

Will. All offences, my liege, come from the heart : 
never came any from mine, that might offend your ma- 

K. Hen. It was our self thou didst abuse. 

Will. Your majesty came not like yourself: you 
appeared to me but as a common man; witness the 
night, your garments, your lowliness ; and what your 
highness suffered under that shape, I beseech you, take 
it for your own fault, and not mine : for had you been 
as I took you for, I made no offence ; therefore, I be- 
seech your highness, pardon me. 

King Henry V. Act IV. Sc. 8. 

&CkavTOs ixaXidT av elrj [6 iineLKrjs], K.aff erepov 
elbos tov 6v€Lbi(ofJ.ivov f kol hiafyipav tovovtov, oaov 
to Kara Xoyov (fjv, tov Kara naOos, koli opiyeo-Oai rj 
tov Kakov, rj tov Sokovvtos crvpufiipeiv. 

Eth. IX. 8. 


Dau. Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin 
As self-neglecting. 

King Henry V. Act II. Sc. 4. 

T(3 pkv €TTL0VIJLOVVTL KOI €vik77th, €CLV fj TO €(T6fJL€V0V 
f]bv, K0l €<T€(T0aL, KCLL ayadbv €<T€(T0aL <j)aLV€TCU. 

Rhet. II. 1. 4. 

Theseus. Such tricks hath strong imagination ; 
That, if it would but apprehend some joy, 
It comprehends some bringer of that joy. 

Mids. Night's Dream, Act V. Sc. 1. 

Ov yap tclvtcl (patverai <\>ikovcri koX iaktovctiv, ov& 
opyifaixivois Kal Trpqas zyovcriv dAA.' rj to Ttapamav 
%T€pa, r) Kara [liyeOos erepa. Rhet. II. 1. 4. 

Hector. Pleasure and revenge 

Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice 
Of any true decision. 

Troilus and Cressida, Act II. Sc. 2. 

Al /xrjrepes cf)i\.OT€KVOT€paL' tinnovtoTepa yap r) ykv- 
vqvis, Kal fjiaXXov la-aciv otl avT&v. 

Eth. IX. 7. 

York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king. 



Duch. Strike him, Aumerle. — Poor boy, thou art 
amaz'd : 
Hence, villain; never more come in my sight. — \_To 

York. Give me my boots, I say. servant. ~\ 

Duch. Why, York, what wilt thou do? 
Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own ? 
Have we more sons ? or are we like to have ? 
Is not my teeming date drunk up with time ? 
And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age, 
And rob me of a happy mother's name ? 
Is he not like thee ? is he not thine own ? 

York. Thou fond mad woman, 
Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy ? 
A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament, 
And interchangeably set down their hands 5 
To kill the kino; at Oxford. 

Duch. He shall be none ; 
We'll keep him here : Then what is that to him ? 

York. Away, 
Fond woman ! were he twenty times my son, 
I would appeach him. 

Duch. Hadst thou groan' d for him, 
As I have done, thou'dst be more pitiful. 
But now I know thy mind ; thou dost suspect, 
That I have been disloyal to thy bed, 
And that he is a bastard, not thy son : 
Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind : 
He is as like thee as a man may be, 
Not like to me, or any of my kin, 
And yet I love him. 

King Richard II. Act V. Sc. 3. 



Onep kcll ZttI t&v Teyyr)T&v o-v/x/Se^/ce* iras yap to 
oIk&ov epyov ayairq fxaXXou, rj ayairrjOetr] av vtto rov 
epyov, ip,\j/vxov yevojxtvov. MaAtora 8' io-g)s tovto 
TTepl tovs TToirjras o-vpifiaivec vtt€ pay airmen yap ovtol 
ra ot/ceta TTOLrjpLara (rrepyovres ooorirep TtKva. 

Eth. IX. 7. 

Poet. What have you there ? 

Painter. A picture, sir. — And when comes your 
book forth ? 

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. 
Let's see your piece. 

Pain. 'Tis a good piece. 

Poet. So 'tis : this comes off well and excellent. 

Pain. Indifferent. 

Poet. Admirable : how this grace 
Speaks his own standing ! what a mental power 
This eye shoots forth ! how big imagination 
Moves in this lip ! to the dumbness of the gesture 
One might interpret. 

Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. 
Here is a touch ; is't good ? 

Poet. I'll say of it, 
It tutors nature : artificial strife 
Lives in these touches, livelier than life. 

Timon of Atpiens, Act I. Sc. 1 

"E0LK€ €K TOVTtoV, €L Kal biLKVdrai 7Tpb$ TOVS K€KfX7]- 

Koras otlovv, etre ayadbv, the roivavrCov, acj>avp6v tl 
Kal puKpbv, r) a7TAo>95 fj Zkzlvols tlvar d be pLrj, tovovtov 


ye kcu tolovtov, wore fxr) irotdv tvhaiixovas tovs /xrj 6'vTas, 
pjSe tovs ovras /xa/capiW acpcupeTo-Ocu to pLaK&piov. 

Eth. 1.11. 

Macbeth. Duncan is in his grave ; 

After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well ; 
Treason has done his worst : nor steel, nor poison, 
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing 
Can touch him further ! 

Macbeth, Act III. Sc. 2. 

TcSz; 8' av6p<tiir(i)v e/caorot fiovktvovTcu irepl t&v dY 


Kqv fjiev abvvaTti) kvTvyoacnv, afyivTavTai. 

Eth. III. 3. 

Bard. When we mean to build, 

We first survey the plot, then draw the model ; 
And, when we see the figure of the house, 
Then must we rate the cost of the erection ; 
Which if we find outweighs ability, 
What do we then, but draw anew the model 
In fewer offices ; or, at least, desist 
To build at all ? Much more, in this great work, 
(Which is, almost, to pluck a kingdom down, 
And set another up,) should we survey 
The plot of situation, and the model ; 
Consent upon a sure foundation ; 
Question surveyors ; know our own estate, 
How able such a work to undergo, 
To weigh against his opposite ; or else, 


We fortify in paper,, and in figures, 
Using the names of men, instead of men : 
Like one, that draws the model of a house 
Beyond his power to build it ; who, half through, 
Gives o'er, and leaves his part created cost 
A naked subject to the weeping clouds, 
And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. 

Part II. K. Henry IV. Act I. Sc. 

Tlavres, orav vTrapxil tl, irpbs tovto oroopeveiv el<&- 
Oaviv. Rhet. II. 15. 2. 

Hot. My father gave him welcome to the shore : 
And, — when he heard him swear, and vow to God, 
He came but to be duke of Lancaster, 
To sue his livery, and beg his peace ; 
With terms of innocency, and terms of zeal, — 
My father, in kind heart and pity mov'd, 
Swore him assistance, and performed it too. 
Now, when the lords and barons of the realm 
Perceiv d Northumberland did lean to him, 
The more and less came in with cap and knee ; 
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages ; 
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes, 
Laid gifts before him, proffered him their oaths, 
Gave him their heirs ; as pages followed him, 
Even at the heels, in golden multitudes. 
He presently, — as greatness knows itself, — 
Steps me a little higher than his vow 
Made to my father, while his blood was poor, 
Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurg ; 


And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform 
Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees, 
That lie too heavy on the commonwealth : 
Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep 
Over his country's wrongs ; and, by this face, 
This seeming brow of justice, did he win 
The hearts of all that he did angle for. 
Proceeded further ; cut me off the heads 
Of all the favourites, that the absent king 
In deputation left behind him here, 
When he was personal in the Irish war. 

Part I. K. Henry IV. Act IV. Sc. 3. 

"Oijlolov T& iJLrjOev yiyvtaQai, orav ov kfyUrai jjltj 
rvyyavr\. Eth. IX. 1. 

Helena. How happy some, o'er other some can be ! 
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. 
But what of that ? Demetrius thinks not so. 

Mids. Night's Dream, Act I. Sc. 1. 

v A/)€(r/cot — ol TTCLvra irpbs fjbovrjv knaivovvres, /cat 
ovOev avTLTeivovTes, aXXa brj o16[jl€Vol hew aXviroL toIs 
tvrvyyavovcnv elvat. Eth. IV. 6. 

Osric. Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, 
I should impart a thing to you from his majesty. 

Ham. I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of spi- 
rit : your bonnet to his right use ; 'tis for the head. 


Osr. I thank your lordship, 'tis very hot. 

Ham. No, believe me,, 'tis very cold; the wind is 

Osr. It is indifferent cold,, my lord, indeed. 

Ham. But yet, methinks, it is very sultry and hot ; 
or my complexion 

Osr. Exceedingly, my lord ; it is very sultry, — as 
'twere, — I cannot tell how. 

Hamlet, Act V. Sc. 2. 

To inaiveiv Ttapovra KoAa/cetas [<T77jueibz\] 

TJxr^rp TT a ft 

Rhet. II. 6. 8. 

Flav. Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord } 
How many prodigal bits have slaves, and peasants, 
This night englutted ! Who is not Timon's ? 
What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is lord 

Timon's ? 
Great Timon ! noble, worthy, royal Timon's ? 
Ah ! when the means are gone, that buy this praise, 
The breath is gone whereof this praise is made ! 

Timon of Athens, Act II. Sc. 2. 

Bo)/xoaox<h — yXixoixtvoi 7ravT(x}$ tov yzXolov, /cat 
fxaXXov (TTOxa&^voL tov yeXcora Troifjo-cu, rj tov Ae- 
y€tv tvcrxfiiJLOva, kclI [Mj XvTieiv tov CK^TTTo^evov. 

Eth. IV. 8. 

Gon. And, do you mark me, sir ? — 


Alon. Pry* thee, no more : thou dost talk nothing to 

Gon. I do well believe your highness ; and did it to 
minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such 
sensible and nimble lungs, that they always use to 
laugh at nothing. 

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh' d at. 

Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am no- 
thing to you ; so you may continue, and laugh at no- 
thing still. 

Ant. What a blow was there again ! 

Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long. 

Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle ; you would 
lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue 
in it five weeks without changing. 

Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. 

Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. 

Gon. No, I warrant you ; I will not adventure my 
discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I 
am very heavy ? 

Ant. Go sleep, and hear us. 

Tempest, Act II. Sc. 1. 


The Common Places of Aristotle, and other similar 
portions of the Rhetoric, have, for the most part, but 
little to do with the passions and manners of men, 
and are therefore of comparatively small importance 
when we are regarding the author simply as an ob- 
server of human nature. Some of these passages have 
already been noticed ; and a few other illustrations are 
here subjoined. 

*H avrl ijl€l(ovos kclkov iXdrrovos Xrj^/ts — ayaOov 
icTTL. Rhet. I. 6. 5. 

Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry : you have cause 
(So have we all) of joy ; for our escape 
Is much beyond our loss : our hint of woe 
Is common ; every day, some sailor's wife, 
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant, 
Have just our theme of woe : but for the miracle, 
I mean our preservation, few in millions 
Can speak like us : then wisely, good sir, weigh 
Our sorrow with our comfort. 

Tempest, Act II. Sc. 1. 

'AyaOa — rfc/x7j, bog a* kcll yap fjbea kclI TTOLrjTiKa 
ttoW&v. Rhet. I. 6. 13. 

Iago. Good name, in man and woman, dear my lord, 
Is the immediate jewel of their souls : 


Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, 

nothing ; 
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; 
But he, that niches from me my good name, 
Robs me of that, which not enriches him, 
And makes me poor indeed. 

Othello, Act III. Sc. 3. 

Kal b ol ex#pot kcu ol (fxxvXoL tTtaivovcnv [tovt 
aya06v.] Rhet. I. 6. 24. 

iENEAS. What the repining enemy commends, 
That breath fame follows, that praise, sole pure, tran- 

Troilus and Cressida, Act I. Sc. 3. 

A Ooi afJL<pL(rl3r]TovvT€s } rj ol k^Qpol, alpovvrcu — /xei- 
(ov ayaOov. Rhet. I. 7. 28. 

Comin. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, 
Thou'lt not believe thy deeds : but I'll report it, 
Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles ; 
Where great patricians shall attend, and shrug, 
I'the end, admire ; where ladies shall be frighted, 
And, gladly quak'd, hear more ; where the dull tri- 
That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, 
Shall say, against their hearts — " We thank the gods 
Our Rome hath such a soldier !" 

Coriolanus, Act I. Sc. 9. 


To clvt£> [ayaObv] [juteifoz/], rj clttX&s. 


Tit. Or, say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat. 

Bot. [Fancying himself an ass.~2 Truly,, a peck of 
provender ; I could munch your good dry oats. Me- 
thinks, I have a great desire to a bottle of hay : good 
hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow. 

Tit. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek 
The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. 

Bot. I had rather have a handful, or two, of dried 
peas. Mids. Night's Dream, Act IV. Sc. 1. 

At TTepntireiai, kcu to irapa fxiKpov crco(€(T0aL £k t&v 
KivUvav [fjbza.] Rhet. I. 11. 24. 

Othel. It gives me wonder great as my content, 
To see you here before me. O my soul's joy ! 
If after every tempest come such calms, 
May the winds blow till they have waken' d death ! 
And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, 
Olympus-high ; and duck again as low 
As hell's from heaven ! If it were now to die, 
'Twere now to be most happy ; for, I fear, 
My soul hath her content so absolute, 
That not another comfort like to this 
Succeeds in unknown fate. 

Othello, Act II. Sc. 1. 



xal roty havriois paWov. Rhet. II. 19. 14. 

Edgar. While I may 'scape,, 

I will preserve myself: and am bethought 
To take the basest and most poorest shape., 
That ever penury, in contempt of man, 
Brought near to beast : my face I'll grime with filth ; 
Blanket my loins ; elf all my hair in knots ; 
And with presented nakedness outface 
The winds, and persecutions of the sky. 
The country gives me proof and precedent 
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices, 
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms, 
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary ; 
And with this horrible object, from low farms, 
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes and mills, 
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, 
Enforce their charity. 

King Lear, Act II. Sc. 3. 

Koivbs 8' afxcf)Oiv [scil. r<5 bia^dXkovTL kol t<3 cltto- 
\vofjiiv(f\ 6 t6ttos, to crv\xfio\a Xiytiv. 

Rhet. III. 15. 9. 

Antony. He was my friend, faithful and just to me : 
But Brutus says, he was ambitious ; 
And Brutus is an honourable man. 
He hath brought many captives home to Rome, 
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill : 
Did this in Csesar seem ambitious ? 


When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept ; 

Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: 

Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; 

And Brutus is an honourable man. 

You all did see, that on the Lupercal, 

I thrice presented him a kingly crown, 

Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ? 

Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; 

And, sure, he is an honourable man. 

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, 

But here I am to speak what I do know. 

Julius CiESAR, Act III. Sc. 2. 


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